


we're just fragments of a great collide

by MajorinMonster



Series: fragments [1]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anxiety Attacks, Biting, Canon Compliant, Enthusiastic Consent, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Knotting, M/M, Mating Bond, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Medication, Mental Health Issues, Omega Lucas, Pining, Scent Marking, Talk of Consent, a little bit of trope subversion, alpha eliott, and then canon divergent, to a certain point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-11-19 08:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 84,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18133565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorinMonster/pseuds/MajorinMonster
Summary: When Lucas was thirteen his mother was torn from him and put into long term care. They said she was too volatile, too dangerous to herself and to others. They said that an omega like her needed constant supervision, that without his alpha father she’d be too vulnerable to the world, sharp as it was.When Lucas was fourteen, just a year later, he presented as an omega and told no one.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ive never written an abo au before so lmao wish me luck. This is a birthday present for my friend Tina, who is the one who got me into SKAM in the first place, so babe, i really hope you like this im very nervous to be dipping my toe into this trope. also the title is from atlas genius' "molecules"
> 
> Currently i have 21k of this written up. I’ll be attempting daily updates which might change if my writing slows down and i run out of ready chapters, idk if anyone in this fandom is actually interested in this trope other than me and tina but if you are i hope i do it justice! 
> 
> A few quick notes:
> 
> Lucas is still in the closet about being gay. I feel that in a traditional abo au homophobia against same sex relationships makes no sense bc of subgenders, if male omegas can get pregnant than most of the stupid rhetoric about gay people being unnatural bc sex is for babies is redundant, however because it is such a bit part of the skam storyline and such a big part of Lucas’ identity i decided to keep it in. So basically in this abo au the sort of “accepted thing” is male alphas with female omegas and female alphas with male omegas, anything other than this is seen as deviant. Betas kind of get a free pass on that one, they can go with either subgender as well as their own but the whole male/female thing is still seen as the norm for them too. 
> 
> Also some side storylines are removed or changed; Chloe’s part has also been heavily edited and lisa isn’t in this at all bc i needed her room free. i’m trying to utilise as many characters as i can but since i havent seen the first two seasons im still sketchy with names and personalities so forgive me if i get something wrong. 
> 
> and finally, I’m not 100% sure how i’ll be handling Eliott’s mental illness in this. He is definitely still bipolar but after friday’s episode came out and i still havent been able to watch that final clip bc it upsets me too much so i’m not sure if i’ll be rewriting that, leaving it as is, leaving it out entirely or what. I’ll have to see how i feel when i get to that point.

When Lucas was thirteen his mother was torn from him and put into long term care. They said she was too volatile, too dangerous to herself and to others. They said that an omega like her needed constant supervision, that without his alpha father she’d be too vulnerable to the world, sharp as it was. 

When Lucas was fourteen, just a year later, he presented as an omega and told no one. He faked the flu and spent two days in bed until he could sneak out and buy suppressants from a dealer he’d seen in back alleys and dark corners on the walk home from school. Of course no one checked on him, and he’d never been more grateful for his lacklustre housing situation than he had been in those two days. He’d spent the last twelve months in a foster home while they tried to track down his father. His foster family were neither cruel nor loving, they fed him, clothed him, expected nothing from him except manners and obedience. 

It didn’t matter though.

He hated them simply for the crime of not being his mother. 

When Lucas was sixteen, almost seventeen, his foster father caught him smoking weed in his little back bedroom. The walls were white and pristine, the carpet was white. Pristine. Everything in that room had been as clean as snow apart from Lucas, who could feel the black tar on his heart growing thicker every single day. Lucien, the foster father, had called child services that night and demanded a quick removal. Like Lucas was a couch or a table they’d decided didn’t fit into their colour scheme. 

His child services agent was a woman called Alice, a nice beta who always looked at him with sympathy. Lucas kind of hated her too. She’d been the one to come and collect him and she’d been the one to tell him that the foster system was currently under an unprecedented amount of strain and that they were struggling to find a replacement family, and was he sure that there was no one else, no other family who could take him in? 

Lucas had met Mika only a month before. He’d been out past curfew, having clambered down onto a garden shed that he could use as a halfway point between the first floor and the ground floor. Mika was an alpha, which in itself was stupidly important in the eyes of the state, but more importantly he was over eighteen. Lucas used an impromptu toilet break to call and beg Mika to lie for him, say that they’d known each other for much longer. Mika had been understandably stubborn at first and hadn’t relented until Lucas had told him that he was an omega and he was scared that the next foster family he would be placed with wouldn’t be as accommodatingly bland as the last.

And so Lucas moved into Mika’s flat with the approval of Alice and a half a dozen spot checks scattered over the next few months. His bedroom was small, square, with wooden floors and wispy curtains. He plastered the walls with posters of varying colours; the more they clashed the better. He let himself be a little messy, draped clothes on the back of his desk chair, took his socks off in the living room, left his mug of hot chocolate on the side of his bed for long enough that it started to develop sentience. Little things like that. Although Mika disagreed with his definition of ‘little.’ He didn’t really appreciate the new life form taking up residence in the cup and promptly made him throw the whole thing in the trash when he found it. 

Life was slowly starting to feel more normal, less like he was walking around barefoot on a floor covered in glass.

And then he met Eliott. Eliott the alpha, who smelt of warm cinnamon milk and chocolate chip cookies, whose gaze caught his with laser precision. That first day, at the meeting in the foyer, Lucas couldn’t have repeated a word that was said but he could tell you exactly how many times Eliott laughed (4), how many times Lucas looked at him (approximately 13) and how many times Eliott had looked back (1). 

Up until that moment being an omega had been, for the most part, a small section of himself he was aware of in only a detached fashion. He didn’t quite understand on a bone deep level exactly what it meant. Despite the numerous articles and papers he’d read online when he’d first presented, and despite the numerous health classes, his secondary gender hadn’t really reared its head, especially with the suppressants working to cover his scent and minimise his heats. He had known the general facts; that out of the three (alpha, beta, omega) omegas were the only subgender group to be able to carry children, that in general pregnancy wouldn’t occur unless in heat 99% of the time, and heats themselves tended to average every three months and lasted for between 2-3 days. 

His own heats were few and far between, since the suppressants elongated the gaps so that they fell twice a year instead of four times. The body needed at least one heat a year in order to regulate itself, even if that heat was spent locked up in his bedroom with nothing but his own hands to get him through it. Two was generally seen as more healthy though, and so twice a year he would miss his daily dose two days in a row and stew in unhappiness until it was over.

He also knew that it wasn’t like in porn. Even with his general lack of experience he knew that the portrayal of an omega in heat as desperate was almost always bullshit created to entice the audience. 

Yes, he got a little desperate for physical contact, though this wasn’t always sexual in nature, and yes he definitely experienced a heightened sex drive, but it wasn’t high enough that it would force him to throw himself at the first alpha who he came across. In fact more often than not the idea of anyone being around him while he was in such a vulnerable position made him more violent and less likely to tolerate anyone else in his space. 

The last time Mika hadn’t knocked before entering on the second day of Lucas’ heat, Lucas had thrown his alarm clock at Mika with such force that, if he hadn’t had the good sense to duck, it would have sent him to the emergency room. As it was it left a hefty dent in the wall by the door frame that was still there even now, and it meant that Mika never ever forgot to knock again. 

Seeing Eliott though, smelling him, being in the same general vicinity as him, it had triggered something. A dark room that had never known the sun suddenly housed a star. His fingertips had trembled where they’d been pressed into his jean-clad thighs, nails digging in through the material in what he would never admit was a concentrated effort to resist the urge to turn around and reach out for him, this boy whose name he hadn’t even known at that point.

Later on he’d been at the bus stop and Eliott had been stood with his back to Lucas, gazing into the vending machine like it held the answers to the greatest questions in life. Lucas had talked himself into and out of approaching Eliott at least five times until he’d finally given in and just walked up behind him. Being so close to him, even closer than he’d been at the meeting, had sent such a shiver down his spine that he’d almost stumbled. And when Eliott had opened his mouth to speak and his voice had such a soft rumble to it, the sound had moved like an ocean wave over his body.

“I’m sorry,” Eliott had said, “I didn’t see you there. I don’t know which one to choose,” and then he’d listened to Lucas’ suggestions. He’d bought two of the same bar specifically so he could give one to Lucas and that little omega voice inside of his chest had screamed “provider!” so loud that Lucas had worried for a moment that Eliott would be able to hear it.

Then when Eliott had sat next to him under the shelter, instead of in the third seat of the row, it was only a herculean force of will that had prevented him from turning and shoving his face into the sweet smelling gap between Eliott’s jaw and his shoulder. Their eye contact had been electric enough that at one point he had wanted to glance around and check to see if they’d managed to start any fires, but that would have involved looking away.

It has been days since that moment. Lucas has seen Eliott around at school since then, has caught his scent on the breeze when crossing the courtyard, but they haven’t spoken. It gnaws at Lucas through almost every waking moment, following him deep into the nights, most of which he now spends laying awake in bed and staring at the ceiling, wondering what Eliott is doing. Wondering how Eliott would lay if he were next to Lucas right now. On his side maybe, or on his back? His mind jigsawed their pieces together, worked out how Lucas would fit into his side so perfectly. These were the thoughts that made him blush whenever he caught sight or scent of Eliott and it was the blush that pushed him to avoid Eliott like he had the plague even though every atom of his body urged the opposite. If Eliott took one look into Lucas’ eyes surely he would know. 

And then it doesn't matter anymore. He is back in that very same bus stop, in the same seat, and in the next moment Eliott is right there with him, close enough to see the pulse at the side of his throat. This is the first time Lucas has ever wished that the suppressants didn’t dampen his scent because god, he wants to know if Eliott has the same reaction to him, he wants to see if he’s alone in this or not. He thinks he isn’t. There’s a certain intensity between them, Lucas can see it in Eliott’s eyes, can feel it in the attention Eliott bestows upon him. Having a true scent would make things so much simpler. And yet, so much more complicated.

He can’t come off of the suppressants. He can’t. He went on them for a reason, it just so happens that whenever Eliott is around he can’t recall what that reason is. It is only when his scent has cleared from Lucas’ mind that he remembers; he doesn’t want to be owned. He doesn’t want every break down he might have to be seen as just another omega succumbing to their emotions. He won’t let himself become his mother, someone to be taken away and medicated into submission.

But, that small voice pipes up, you’re in a different position now. You don’t live with people who could hurt you just because they wanted to. You’re older, you can stand up for yourself.  _ You are not your mother.  _

He beats that voice down until it is quiet again.

Eliott is saying something and Lucas realises he has zoned out while staring into Eliott’s eyes and there’s that blush again, heating his cheeks, the back of his neck. It takes an almost physical effort to pull his gaze away, to look at the floor, the road, the sky, anything but Eliott. Eliott is still looking at him though, Lucas can see him from the corner of his eye.

“So, what do you think?” Eliott prompts, tilting his head and smiling a slow, slow smile. It is treacle, sweet and sticky. Lucas wants nothing more than to taste it. 

“Ah-” Lucas clears his throat. Shit. What had Eliott been saying? “Yes?” he hopes to god that ‘yes’ is the right answer. That Eliott hadn’t been asking him something stupid like “do you agree with brexit?” to which the answer would have been a resounding “fuck off.” 

A bus pulls up in front of them. “Cool,” Eliott stands as the doors open. “Come on then,” Lucas stares after him, blinking. Shit. What did he just agree to exactly? Eliott looks over his shoulder and laughs at whatever he sees on Lucas’ face. “You want that beer right? It’s not far to my place.”

Oh. Oh! He had been telling Eliott about his issues with finding alcohol and Eliott had been offering some of his own. Lucas jumps up without thinking and follows him onto the bus. The doors are closing behind him and the vehicle has started moving before he realises that he’s going to be in Eliott’s home, a place where Eliott’s scent is so embedded into the furniture that Lucas will be able to smell him on everything. His legs are wobbly at the thought. Whether this is down to trepidation or fascination, Lucas has no idea. 

The bus ride is quiet. The seats feel smaller than usual, with Eliott pressed against him. When the bus takes a turn a little too sharp and Lucas almost slides from his seat it is Eliott who quickly wraps an arm around his shoulders to yank him back. He leaves the arm there, too, over the back of the seat but not quite holding onto him, even when the bus is going slow enough that there is no chance Lucas could fall out of his seat. He can feel the hot brand of it through his clothes, all across his shoulders. He inhales, a shuddery shivering breath, and tries to force his body to relax. The arm lies almost directly over his scent gland. For the most part his scarf prevents them from really touching but every now and again the shifting of fabric allows some skin to skin contact and every time that happens he shivers hard. It’s the one thing his suppressants can’t do anything about. Once the scent gland is formed it is formed. It’s why he still has a scent, though the pills mute it down so it isn’t as intense as an omega’s smell should be. Betas and alphas have them too, though betas don’t tend to be sensitive to the touch, so at least he doesn’t have to worry about it being seen, though having someone touch it and see him react would be pretty revealing, enough to make most people ask questions. Thankfully Eliott either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. 

They don’t speak but the silence isn’t an awkward one. He feels more comfortable here, with a boy he barely knows, than he’s felt in a long time, around people he’s known for years. He follows him from the bus when it pulls up at their stop like there’s a leash between them with Lucas attached at the end like a dog. 

Is this what they mean by puppy love?

He can smell it before Eliott even opens the door to his apartment. Thick, spicy vanillary goodness permeates every fibre of  _ everything _ . It dances the line between too much and not enough. Lucas accepts the drink that Eliott hands him after abandoning his coat on the side, and looks around. The apartment is homely, full of little touches which make it feel lived in. There is a piano in the corner which calls his name, and drawings cover the walls. A record player sits against the wall and Lucas can see a stack of vinyl albums on the bookcase. He takes it all in and then goes back to focusing on the drawings. He sips at the beer. One or two won’t have an impact on the suppressants at all, but any more than that and he might start to smell more like Lucas the omega rather than Lucas the beta. 

“Are these yours?”

“Yes,” Eliott has come up behind him and even though Lucas could sense his approach he still jumps a little when Eliott speaks and it comes from so close to his ear.

“Is it a badger?”

Eliott laughs, shakes his head. “A raccoon. It’s my favourite animal.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re cool. They’ve got a mask,” he makes a hand gesture across his face and grins. Lucas smiles back. A mask. Yeah, he gets that. He feels like he wears a mask constantly too. He wonders if that’s why Eliott likes them, or if it really is just because they’re cute, like Eliott.  _ Wait, no. _ Cool. Eliott had said  _ cool _ . Lucas is projecting. 

“What about me?” He asks it before he can stop himself. “How would you draw me?” He glances from the wall to Eliott, looking up at him through his lashes and as their gazes meet his breath catches in his throat. He feels all of Eliott’s attention focused on him, zeroed in like the most powerful searchlight. He thinks Eliott can see into his soul in that moment, as Eliott turns his body to face Lucas head on, as he tilts his head to the side in consideration. He kind of regrets asking, but not enough that he would hold back the question if he could do it all over again. It’s in this moment where he realises how tall Eliott is. He’d known it, of course, in a distant way, but here he is looking up into those eyes, that face. He swallows hard and bites at his lower lip, unconsciously noting how Eliott’s gaze drops down to his mouth at the movement. 

“I don’t know,” Eliott finally admits with a half shrug and a half smile. “I’ll have to think about it.” Lucas can’t prevent the smile that finds its way onto his own mouth, he wiggles his eyebrow. He likes that Eliott will be thinking about him. He probably likes it a little too much.

Eventually they move to the couch. Lucas can feel his skin prickling with the urge to scoot down and press his face into the material, to inhale deep enough to singe the scent onto the inside of his nose and throat. He resists. Barely. It gets both better and worse when Eliott sits next to him as they share a joint. There is an awareness between them of how their mouths are both touching the same thing, being passed one from the other, and a hot shivery part of Lucas takes particular joy with meeting Eliott’s gaze as he wraps his lips around the joint. He blames it on the high but whether that’s the high of the joint or the high of Eliott’s presence is anyone’s guess. 

It’s Friday evening, and he technically has places to be but everything outside of this room is distant in his mind, whereas Eliott is so, so close. 

When Eliott changes the music to dubstep, lets loose a little to dance to it, Lucas wants to laugh because Eliott is acting like a complete idiot but Lucas finds it so intensely endearing that he kind of wants to wrap Eliott in a blanket and smoosh his cheeks. His brain is turning to mush in his head. There’s no other excuse for the “I like new things,” that somehow works its way out of his mouth when Eliott asks if he wants him to change the music to something more familiar. Eliott practically makes bedroom eyes at him. 

The next time the music needs changing Lucas forces himself to his feet, but finds he strays more towards the piano then to the record player. He sits, asks permission to play, and takes a moment to decide if he wants to actually go for it or just mess around with some notes. In the end the strength of Eliott’s appraisal behind him is strong enough that after pressing a few random keys he lets himself settle into the flow of a melody. 

The music builds inside of him. The only way he can describe it is to compare his body to a cup and the music to a jug of water that is slowly being emptied into it. There comes a moment when the cup is full and it begins to overflow and Lucas plays through it, lets the music splash down his sides and into the room. When he turns to glance at Eliott the look on his face is. He doesn’t even know how to put it into words. There are no words. Lucas has never had anyone look at him that way before. There is a sharpening in the air as Eliott’s scent spikes and Lucas can’t help but inhale deeper. He knows the flare of his nostrils hasn’t gone unnoticed as Eliott continues to gaze at him, transfixed.

Focusing his gaze back on the piano helps. He doesn’t need to look at his fingers as he plays, It’s all muscle memory at this point, but having something to focus on that isn’t Eliott’s face is grounding. When his mother practically bribed him into piano lessons as a kid he’d never expected to actually connect with playing but something inside him had clicked. 

There is the same kind of resonance here too, between Lucas and Eliott. The same kind of muscle memory even, as if his entire body, his whole being, already knows exactly how to act and react around Eliott, even though they’ve never been through these paces before. He knew the dance before he even knew there was a song to dance _ to _ . 

When the song draws to a close he can’t resist turning to look at Eliott again, only to find the exact same expression on his face as before. He wants to kiss that expression. Quite literally, too. When Eliott licks his lips Lucas is on fire. He barely hears the compliment, “that was amazing,” through the blood pounding in his ears. He feels it though, that’s for sure. It zings through his body, sparks nerve endings in places he never knew could react like that. He tries to joke it off.

“It was no Star Wars theme…”

“You’re surprising.” Eliott says. “I like surprising people.”

_ I like you,  _ he wants to blurt. He might have gone through with it too if it weren’t for the text that pings on Eliott’s phone at that very moment. 

And then they’re leaving.

Eliott is going to meet with friends and Lucas remembers that oh yeah he does have plans. Whoops. And just like they they’re separating. Lucas feels it like it is a physical thing although they haven’t even touched since the bus, apart from the odd brush against one another on the couch. Eliott says they should do it again and Lucas says “anytime,” and means it so thoroughly that it scares him a little. He turns to leave but pauses when Eliott calls to him, and then Eliott’s fingers are in his hair, tugging gently. He doesn’t know why, maybe there was a piece of fluff, but the feeling of it mushes his brain for a moment and he hesitates imperceptibly, watching Eliott for a moment too long before he can convince himself to leave properly. 

He lingers outside, messing with his phone, and when he scents Eliott again he is confused. He glances up to find him leaving the building and walking fast towards something. He follows the journey with his eyes and wishes he hadn’t. 

She’s a beta, he can tell it even from here. A proper one too, not the fake that he’s pretending to be. Stable, reliable, not over emotional or over attached. She’s probably everything he isn’t. Everything he would never know how to be. When Eliott kisses her Lucas goes cold from his head to his toes all at once. 

Of course.

Why would Eliott want him when he can have this beta girl? Someone who isn’t fucked up and lying to everyone about her presentation. This entire night has been an exercise in futility. He was  _ deluded _ to think that there could have been anything between them, that Eliott could have been meant for him. Maybe he has more in common with his mother than just his subgender. Fuck. _ Fuck. _

He barely remembers the rest of the night. He goes home eventually, at some point, somehow. Settles himself into his bed with too many blankets and not enough Eliott and lets himself cry a little bit. Not too much, just enough to unpack some of the pressure behind his eyes. 

Tomorrow will be better. 

It has to be better. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of the weekend isn’t better at all.

The rest of the weekend isn’t better at all. He avoids Mika so well that at one point, after over 24 hours with no human contact whatsoever, Lucas has to wonder if he’s actually managed to become invisible by sheer force of not wanting to be seen. He stays in his room and only ventures out when he knows Mika has left the apartment, and even then it’s only to grab an armful of non perishable food to horde in his room. By Sunday he’s so fed up of animal crackers, fruit and pringle sandwiches that he’s about ready to scream.

Monday morning, when it finally creeps up, doesn’t improve anything.

He argues with Mika before he leaves the house because Mika has been laying in wait by the front door so that Lucas can’t sneak past him. He wants to know why Lucas has been avoiding him and why he still smells like an alpha who Mika doesn’t recognise after a whole weekend of being on his own. Other than Mika, Yann is the only alpha Lucas really hangs around with, and Mika knows him well enough to know that he doesn’t normally deviate from that. Lucas shrugs him off, refuses to answer, and eventually Mika pulls the guardian card. There isn’t much Lucas can say in reply to that and so he leaves in sulky silence.

Technically Mika isn’t in the wrong, he has some kind of right at least to look out for Lucas, especially when it is Lucas himself who begged Mika to let him stay in his apartment. And yeah, if Mika wanted to he could contact Alice and have Lucas removed if Lucas continues to piss him off. He wouldn’t do that though. Probably.

He isn’t at school for five minutes before he’s accosted by his friends. He hands over what remains of the weed and apologises, but he has no real excuse. He can’t tell them he was with Eliott without having to deal with a barrage of questions from all of them, and there is literally nothing else he would be doing that sounds feasible. Yann lingers behind, eyes very slightly narrowed. He is concerned, his minty scent is sharp with it.

“Why won’t you tell us where you were?”

Lucas glances around, the rest of the corridor is empty. “I was with a friend.”

“You don’t have any friends other than us and Mika, Lucas,” Yann frowns. “And you smell like…” he doesn’t say it but then, he doesn't have to. Lucas knows exactly what he smells like. He’s had three showers since Friday and still he can smell Eliott lingering on his skin, especially at the back of his neck where he’d had his arm pressed during the bus journey.

“He’s new.” Lucas shrugs awkwardly and tries to back away to cut the conversation short. “I was keeping him company.”

“Right.” Yann lets him go, unwilling to box him in so completely although Lucas knows that he knows if he pushed Lucas would probably give in. Yann is the only one that knows he hasn’t seen his mother in years. That she’s living in long term care and that he has no idea where his father is. He’s the only one Lucas has put real thought into telling about his presentation and subsequent suppression.

“Talk later?” Lucas throws over his shoulder, and then leaves before Yann can reply, feeling ill with himself for brushing off his best friend. For being a coward, _again._

By the time Wednesday rolls around Lucas feels weird and on edge. He isn’t sure whether it’s because things with Yann and Mika are still tense or because he hasn’t seen Eliott since friday and he’s in some kind of withdrawal. His skin feels itchy, like it doesn’t fit properly and his clothes just make it worse. It gets so bad at one point that he pulls up the calendar on his phone to check that he isn’t due a heat, and nope, not for another month or so. And even though he has to physically stop taking the pills in order for a heat to start his body always knows when its time, and he starts to feel these kinds of symptoms; hot flushes, itchy skin, increased appetite in more than one way.

He leaves his last class of the day with the same miserable expression he’s been doing everything with lately. Almost immediately he can smell mint through the crowd. Yann is drawing closer, and he really can’t be bothered with more half truths and full on lies, so he ducks into the nearest room, stomach churning with guilt. He hasn’t been paying enough attention however, and so when he turns around after shutting the door behind him and sees the room is already occupied by the group of beta girls who started this whole thing, he freezes.

Without them he wouldn’t have come face to face with Eliott at their meeting, he would have continued to live his life in blissful ignorance for however long that lasted until he’d inevitably run into Eliott in a hallway. He can’t decide if he blames them for speeding up the process, or if he wants to thank them, so he does neither. It would be kind of weird if he tried anyway.

He takes in the scene. They look like they’re moving things around so when they ask what he wants he just says he came to help. Alexia seems all for it, but Daphne takes a bit more convincing, eager to keep some kind of secret. Within seconds though they’ve practically told him everything so it doesn’t really matter what she thinks.

When they say he’s kind of in their squad now he gets all warm and tingly and decides quickly that no one ever needs to hear about that. He will take these warm fuzzy feelings to the grave. Besides, maybe if he hangs around with a group of betas something about them will rub off on him.

Daphne narrows her eyes. “Fine. But it’s betas only so don’t go inviting your other friends, those guys you hang out with.”

“Actually only Yann is an a-” Alexia starts to say but Lucas just nods his agreement and so she shrugs it off. They start talking about her shoes, and in all honestly he zones out a little, until; “Does he know you’re bi?” Lucas feels his face make a complicated expression and busies himself so he doesn't have to look at them.

“No, but we’re all sexually fluid anyway. You didn’t see the Konbini article on the Kinsey scale?” She glances around at them all and only Lucas avoids her eyes and even that’s only until his curiosity gets the better of him.

“What is the Kinsey scale?” Lucas asks, caught between wanting to know and wanting the conversation to be over so his heart will maybe slow back down to its usual healthy rhythm.

“It’s basically the entire spectrum of sexuality, everything that exists between 100% straight and 100% gay. There are additions for like, subgenders, alpha/omega, alpha/alpha and omega/omega for example so its a bit complicated when you first look at it but pretty simple in general. These days it’s common for people of our generation to experiment, see where they fit.” Daphne continues sweeping in the background and Alexia turns to gesture at her and Emma. “Even these two have hooked up.”

“It was once and we were drunk,” Daphne interjects and Emma laughs.

“I always get fluid when I’m drunk.”

“No wonder you drink so much!”

Lucas lets the laughter soak into his skin, smiling slightly as he watches them, “I guess it’s helpful to like guys and girls right?” They turn as one to look at him, “I mean, you can kiss girls and stuff but still date guys. Everyone would think you were straight?”

Daphne and Emma exchange looks as Alexia studies him. “It doesn’t quite work that way. You fall in love with who you fall in love with, that isn’t a choice. If it happens to be a girl, then so be it! And besides, gender isn’t binary. There’s loads between girl and boy.” Lucas thinks about this and then nods, conceding the point.

It isn’t a choice. It isn’t. But if it were… would he choose Eliott?

Would Eliott choose him? Probably not, considering the whole girlfriend thing.

He thinks maybe it’s more important that he wants Eliott to choose him though. It says a lot about who he is. Namely, gay.

Later that night he’s laying in bed with the lights off, two seconds away from searching for a test online to see if the internet thinks he’s gay as well as an omega, when there’s a knock on his door. He closes the laptop and springs from the bed like it has been boobytrapped instead of just telling whoever it is to come in. It feels safer to go to the door.

It’s Mika, bearing pizza and a joint and an apologetic face.

They sprawl on the couch to eat and smoke and talk shit about whatever procedural cop show is on TV. Mika is sneaking glances at Lucas in a way that makes Lucas think that _Mika_ thinks he is being subtle.

It takes him another half hour and three more slices of pepperoni stuffed crust before he breaks.

“I’m really sorry, Lucas.”

Lucas looks over at him and doesn’t say anything.

“Not for worrying about you, that’s my job,” Mika rolls his eyes. “But I’m sorry for not listening to what you were saying, or rather what you weren’t saying, which is what you were up to that night.” Lucas tenses. “Please don’t give me that look, this isn’t me coming for you again this is me trying to say I was in the wrong. You’re seventeen now and I know you think you can handle everything yourself but I gotta say man, you don’t have to. You really don’t. I’m here if you need me.” Mika pokes him in the side. “Just tell me that you’re being careful.” When Lucas just blinks at him Mika rolls his eyes again, this time so hard that he must be half way to giving himself a headache. “You know, with protection. Just because I’m harbouring a secret omega doesn’t mean I’ll be changing diapers if you get pregnant.”

Lucas’ face lights on fire.

“ _Mika_!” His voice is shrill enough to rattle windows, “Jesus! I’m on suppressants, the guy I was _platonically hanging out with_ doesn’t even know i’m not a beta!” He doesn’t even try to protest the fact that in this scenario they’re both just going along with the fact that it’s a guy he was hanging out with and therefore a guy Mika is assuming he might have slept with. Mika is the only person on the planet who is aware not just of his subgender but also his sexuality. Meeting a guy outside a gay club after you’ve snuck out of your bedroom in the middle of the night will do that to a person. Lucas’ curiosity and inability to control said curiosity have gotten him into enough trouble in his short life span.

“Suppressants limit heats, reduce scent strength and reduce slick production, i’m not sure if they technically count as birth control too. Might wanna look into that.” Mika stuffs a clump of cheese into his mouth and avoids Lucas’ gaze. Lucas is well aware of what Mika thinks of his pills, and he’s grateful that for once the other boy isn’t using this as an excuse to read him the riot act about why it’s a bad idea to lie to your friends about who you are.

“They’re not dangerous,” Lucas says. And they’re not, there have been extensive tests done of the medication he takes. Sure, they’re supposed to be used in careers where omega presentation can cause issues, such as in the army or for someone who competes in sports competitions and doesn't want a pesky heat to get in the way, but no one ever said that school boys couldn’t use them too.

There have of course been cases of bad batches and street dealers mixing them with other products, but Lucas trusts his drug dealer, which is perhaps a sentence he never thought he would say before he presented. And if he were to go to the clinic for suppressants at this point there would be an inquiry into why he’s been hiding it, why Mika has been helping him, and there is of course always the chance that they’d deem him mentally unfit because of his lies and decide to take him away too.

Mika says this last point is ridiculous, that he was a scared child when everything happened and that they wouldn’t hold that against him, but he doesn’t dispute the fact that there would be someone to look into it and that Mika himself could get into a lot of trouble if they find out that he knew.

“Not physically, sure,” Mika throws a pepperoni at him. “But they’re enabling your habit of hiding and I don’t think that’s doing you any good psychologically.” Lucas scoffs and picks up the pepperoni from where it has fallen on his jumper, making a face at the smear of grease it leaves behind. He eats it and sticks his tongue out at Mika.

When Lucas had met Mika at sixteen he had been lingering around the entrance of a gay bar downtown and Mika had been leaving with a friend. He’d noticed Lucas’ hovering, and unlike Lucas he also noticed the middle aged alpha who had been trailing him, who was stood partially hidden behind a car, a predator in the dark. He had waved goodbye to his friend and hooked his arm through Lucas’ and promptly marched him into a more inhabited, brighter area of town.

He’d bought Lucas a waffle from a little vending stand and Lucas had been caught between awe and terror until Mika explained exactly why he’d taken charge and Lucas had remembered the feeling of being watched, pins and needles down his spine. Mika didn’t press him but they were both aware of why Lucas was likely to have been where he was, and when Mika asked him how he was getting home Lucas had scoffed. “It takes more than four walls and a roof to call it home,” he had muttered and Mika had sighed, looked up at the sky and then back down, before asking for Lucas’ phone so he could put his own number into it, telling him that if he should need to talk then Mika would be a phone call away. He paid for Lucas’ taxi home and watched with unreadable eyes as the cab drove off with Lucas safety bundled into the back seat.

“I don’t want people to think I’m weak, or that I need help.”

This is an argument as old as the paint on the walls in Lucas’ room. It always plays out the same way.

“No one who matters would think that! You shouldn’t have to hide being an omega anymore than you should have to hide being gay. I’m possibly the only other person you know who could at least understand part of where you’re coming from; I’m gay too, and I’m an alpha, which yeah it’s not the same, but the fact that I’m attracted to male omegas and betas and not female ones is still a stupid issue.” He rests his head on the palm of his hand, elbow propped up against his knee. “I just want you to feel free. Even in the past year things have improved, you know that.”

“And yet my mother is still locked away.” His eyes burn.

“Can I ask you a question?” Mika is unusually abrupt. This is a break from the regularly scheduled course that this conversation usually takes. Lucas nods for him to continue. “Have you looked into visiting her? Or spoken to her recently?”

Lucas looks away, jaw clenching so tight he bites his tongue by accident. The sharp taste of blood floods his taste buds and he can see Mika’s nose flare out of the corner of his eye. Mika already knows the answer but he says it anyway. “No. But then she hasn’t tried to contact me either.”

“Alice said she could if she wanted to though, right?”

Lucas doesn’t say anything.

“Lucas… are you more mad at the government for taking her? Or for her not trying to fight to stay with you? To contact you?”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” In all honesty Lucas hasn’t really put much thought into this. His brain avoids it like the thought is hydrophobic sand and his consciousness is a puddle. He’d always kind of told himself that there must be something keeping her from reaching out, that maybe the government were stepping in to stop her, but Alice has always made it incredibly clear when they’ve spoken that he could speak to her, visit her even, if he wanted to. He knows that Alice passed on his own address once his mother had been settled onto a course of medication and therapy but he’s never heard anything from her since.

“I’m not trying to hurt you.” Mika is looking at him with soft, sad eyes when Lucas finally forces himself to face his housemate again. He is nervous, his scent is off, a little bitter like burnt coffee. Lucas doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like feeling like this either though; vulnerable. Like a glass figurine perched precariously on the edge of a cliff with a steep drop. One gust of wind is all it would take.

He shoves the pizza box off of the couch between them, ignoring how the cardboard tumbles to the floor and scatters crumbs everywhere. Ignoring the sharp intake of breath and the half flinch Mika manages before he realises that Lucas isn’t throwing himself across the couch to attack him but instead to hug him. He smells surprised, but pleasantly so, the burnt coffee aftertaste dims and recedes, leaving something more like coffee cake in its place. Mika is unsure for only a few seconds before resolve takes its place and he wraps his long arms around Lucas’ shoulders, deliberately brushing his wrist against Lucas’ neck in an effort to calm him through scenting. Lucas can feel himself melt into Mika, pressing his face into the base of Mika’s throat and bundling his own arms into his chest so that it’s less of a hug and more just Mika cradling him.

“It’s okay,” Mika murmured, pressing his lips against the top of Lucas’ head and sighing so deeply that his breath ruffles Lucas’ hair. “You’ve got me. I’ve got you.”

Lucas stays there, in that circle of safety, for longer than he wants to admit. When he finally pulls away his pulse is calm at the base of his throat, a gentle tap instead of the frantic race of before. He smells more like Mika than Lucas right now, and any trace of Eliott has vanished. Lucas doesn’t mourn it for long though, too soft and secure in this moment to think about a boy with a girlfriend. They sit in silence for another moment, absorbing the lighter atmosphere and letting the dark recede.

“Sorry about the mess.” He eventually mutters to the floor, pushing himself off of the couch and away from Mika’s warmth. He kneels on the floor and does his best to clean the mess he made, ignoring Mika’s attempt to carefully nudge him away and take over. He needs to focus on something so he can try to force this to the back of his head again, so he can pretend he isn’t fully aware of the fact that his mother doesn’t care enough to ask him how he is even once. Mika lets him. Possibly hyper aware of how close Lucas still is to that cliff edge even with the scenting and the comfort.

“I’m going to make us hot chocolates.” Mika decides, jumping off of the couch and heading to the kitchen to give him a moment to breathe on his own. He sings loudly and out of tune as the milk boils in the pan, filling the apartment with the sweet scent that only deepens as he adds the chocolate powder and cinnamon. It reminds him of Eliott and Lucas lets it all wash over him as he absent mindedly picks crumb after crumb from the floor. There is comfort here, in his home, that he doesn’t really remember ever having before he moved in with Mika just a year before. His foster home certainly never provided it, and while he loved his mother she hadn’t been the type to fawn.

When Mika comes back Lucas is sat back on the couch, studying his phone just for something to do. He shoves it back onto the table and Mika sits and hands him his favourite mug. Neither of them mention the marshmallows that top both hot chocolates but Lucas knows they’re the expensive brand that Mika prefers and hordes like a jealous dragon sat on its pile of gold. He once refused to speak to Lucas for three days when Lucas had unwittingly eaten the last two on a weed fuelled binge.

Mika glances at Lucas, studies him for a second, notes the way that Lucas still can’t quite meet his gaze, and then clearly makes his mind up about something. He reaches for the remote and turns the volume up a bit. Lucas can’t even remember what they had been watching and enough time has passed now anyway so the show on the TV has changed, but they both invest themselves into it without another word, less for the actual programme and more for the sake of the comfort that exists between them. There have been enough words for tonight but it’s been a difficult week despite it only being Monday, and neither of them wants to go to bed yet.

If Lucas ends up pressed against Mika’s side, half asleep on his shoulder, well, there’s no one around to say anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i was gonna save this until later tonight but that clip dropped and in canon lucas is sad again and since i cant hug him in person im gonna hug him via another character lmao. hope you guys enjoy! i was so happy to read the comments on the last chapter thank you so much for leaving them id love to know what you think of this one too! next chapter will have significantly more eliott in it too, it'll be up tomorrow evening if all goes according to plan!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tuesday passes without complaint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there might not be a chapter tomorrow! i'm staying at my dads house and it depends on if i can take my laptop to work in the morning with me and leave it in a safe spot for the day. 
> 
> hope you guys enjoy this one! im not 100% satisfied with it i was hoping it would be longer but theres nothing i can really add without making it obvious that its just to bulk it out so im not going to try haha, i'll just focus on writing more of the overall story, for which i now have a proper plan and goal! the whole thing, so far, is just under 27k.
> 
> also i have no idea what colour maxance's eyes actually are but the internet said blue. not sure if i believe this or not but we're gonna stick to that haha

Tuesday passes without complaint. Classes are slow and his brain feels slower, but by the time he wakes on Wednesday morning things seem to be returning to normal, and he leaves the flat without feeling like the fresh air is a needle against his skin. He spends the first half of the day doing an admirable job of paying attention, making notes and answering questions when he’s called on in class. By the time lunch arrives he’s ready for both a break and food. 

Technically he could leave already, he has no classes left for this afternoon, but the idea of being alone in the flat isn’t particularly engaging, and as awkward as things have been recently he misses spending time with his boys. So here he sits, while Arthur and Basile are talking about something to do with a dance class on one side of the table, with dramatic hand gestures just this side of annoying. Yann is eyeing him oddly from where he’s sat next to Lucas, a couple of inches between them. Lucas ignores him and focuses on his pasta. Food is great. Both a source of nutrition and a perfect excuse to not talk. Best invention ever. He takes as much time as humanly possible with each mouthful, without looking like he’s moving in slow motion.

He smells him before he sees him. Vanilla and spice. The hairs on the back of his neck rise in tandem and he fights down the violent shiver that aches to travel the length of his spine.

Eliott is standing next to the table by the time Lucas can convince himself to look up, swallowing hard around a little bit of pasta and the newly formed lump in his throat. He looks good, fluffy hair and signature jacket included, though his gaze is intense on Lucas’ face, almost angry. Lucas can’t understand why until he notices his nostrils flaring. 

Can he smell Mika on Lucas? Is that it? And more importantly does he care what Lucas smells like because he doesn’t like the scent in general or because he doesn’t like Lucas smelling like another alpha? 

Why is human interaction so complicated? How do people ever get anything done? It’s a wonder the human race hasn’t second guessed itself into sweet extinction.

Lucas flushes when Yann clears his throat, realising how long he’s spent staring at Eliott in a manner that could not be considered subtle under any definition, and glances quickly to the others. Arthur and Bas haven’t even noticed yet but Yann is looking between Lucas and Eliott with narrowed eyes, like he’s adding two and two together and getting four. Lucas wonders what it would take to convince him it was seven and that really Yann has been doing math wrong this entire time. 

Eliott opens his mouth to speak but Lucas shoots up from his chair before he can actually get a word out. Arthur and Basile finally notice the stranger amongst them and blink at Eliott in unison. 

“This is Eliott,” Lucas starts stuffing his belongings into his bag as he speaks, fumbling with the clasps when he’s done. His fingers are shaking a little, so it takes a couple of tries before he can do it properly. “He asked me to show him around the school. He’s new and-” he pauses to shove the last bit of garlic bread into his mouth even though he isn’t really hungry anymore, chewing slowly to give himself chance to catch up with his own lie. “And he doesn’t really know anyone yet so!” He slings his bag over his shoulder and steps away from the table. Eliott waves awkwardly, grimacing more than smiling. His fingers are white around the straps of his own bag.

“Hi,” he exchanges a nod with Arthur and Bas who look delighted at this new potential addition to the gang. They probably think that because he’s attractive he’ll be able to give them tips to get girls. 

“So?” Yann sounds sceptical. Lucas can’t blame him, he probably looks like the definition of panic and stress. As much as Eliott technically  _ is _ new, and at one point or another Lucas had probably implied that he wouldn’t mind showing Eliott around, this isn’t what he would call an honest or chill situation. 

“So I’ll catch you guys later, okay?” He doesn’t give them chance to offer to come with, because he knows that they would, especially with the way Basile is jabbing his fingers into Arthur’s side. He leads a silent Eliott away, weaving between crowded tables and out of the cafeteria and into a quiet corridor. Everyone who is still at school at this time of day is either at lunch or in the library and their footsteps echo in the odd empty silence before they come to a stop in a little nook at the end. 

Eliott hovers almost too close. Definitely too close for a boy with a girlfriend. Lucas can’t convince himself to back off though, not when the warmth of Eliott’s body tugs at him across the inches that separate them. He has to tilt his head back to look into Eliott’s face properly and it sends a weird shiver down his spine. He kind of really wants Eliott to back him up into the wall, to lean against him. He tries to shake it off but has a suspicion that something somehow shows on his scent when Eliott’s pupils expand when he breathes in. 

“You don’t smell like me anymore.” If Lucas isn’t projecting, and he very well might be, Eliott sounds kind of petulant. Like a child who has been told they have to share their toys with the other kids, most of whom have grubby chocolate coated fingers.

“No.” Lucas shivers. He has goosebumps. Again. His body seems to be in a constant state of alert when Eliott is around so he guesses it makes sense that every skin follicle on his body tries to get in on the action. “Why were you looking for me?”

“You left this, the other day.” He hands over Yann’s scarf and Lucas stuffs it into his backpack, wondering how exactly he’s going to explain to his best friend why Eliott’s scent covers it. Maybe he can hide it, take it back to his flat and use it as a pillow until the scent fades and… no. That’s creepy, he tells himself. He won’t be doing that.

(He’s pretty sure he’ll be doing that). 

“Well,” Lucas glances past Eliott’s shoulder to check they’re still alone. “Cool, man. Thanks. Catch you lat-”  

“Lucas,” Eliott tilts his head and Lucas shivers again, hard. Why does Eliott have to look like a supermodel and smell like every delicious treat Lucas loves to indulge in? “Is everything okay? Did I… do something on Friday that made you uncomfortable?” 

“Nope!” Lucas smiles, though it feels too tight on his mouth and from the expression on Eliott’s face it can’t look all too convincing. “Did you have a nice time with your girlfriend?” He says it before he can stop himself, a little too much emphasis on the last word. He kind of enjoys the way Eliott flinches a little. He doesn’t really care if that makes him petty. “I saw you guys just before I left. She’s pretty.”  _ Shut up, shut up shut up shut up! _ “You guys make a… cute couple, I’m sure.”  _ Oh my god shut up.  _

“Lucille.” Eliott’s jaw is tight.

“Good name.” Lucas says. “Strong.”  _ What the actual fuck shut up. _ What does that even mean, having a strong name? Mostly Lucas just doesn’t like how similar it is to his own. He glances around for a half open window he can escape through but there are none in sight. “So anyway-”

“Who do you smell like?” Eliott blanches after he says it but it’s not like he can take it back. Lucas can’t deny he finds it a little gratifying that he isn’t the only one having an issue with brain to mouth filter today. 

“Mika. We live together.” Eliott’s eyes darken and his scent spikes with something suspiciously close to jealousy. Burnt chocolate at the back of his tongue. He wants to tell Eliott to fuck off, that he doesn’t get to be jealous when he’d never mentioned a girlfriend through all the flirting they’ve managed since they met. And it has been flirting. Lucas is naive sometimes, in denial often, but he isn’t stupid. He’s had time to think since the weekend, when he’d been so sure that he’d imagined everything. And as much as he fears other people’s reactions to his sexuality and presentation, he knows exactly how to read interest in alphas. Whether this is a perk of biology or a reaction to his hyperawareness of any given social situation and how to treat it without outing himself, he isn’t sure, but either way he knows what he’s seen in Eliott’s eyes.

And yet, as much as he wants to tell Eliott to fuck off, a bigger part of him just wants Eliott in return. All of him, pressed against all of Lucas until they smell so much of each other that no one could mistake why. 

“You live together?” Eliott repeats, taking a half step closing in such an awkward manner that Lucas suspects he doesn’t quite have control of his own feet at the moment. They’re so close now. Lucas subtly pinches his own side to try to shock his system back into behaving normally but it’s useless; his everything is tuned into Eliott’s everything. Even now he can feel himself leaning ever so slightly forwards to get closer. 

“Yeah.” He doesn’t want to give details,  _ refuses _ to. What right does Eliott have to his Tragic BackstoryTM. “He’s cool. He looks after me. Not that I need to be looked after, I’m capable of, you know, taking care of myself and stuff but.” Shit. What had he been saying? Eliott had leaned infinitesimally closer too and Lucas had inhaled and like, half of his brain cells had stopped functioning with a wheeze and a splutter and a ‘thanks for the memories’ farewell. 

_ Fuck pheromones  _ man. 

“I heard someone talking earlier, in the foyer, there’s going to be a party on friday night. Invitations will be going out later.” The subject change is jarring and it takes Lucas a moment to understand, working at half brain function as he is. He blinks a couple dozen times in quick succession and convinces his body to move back a hair's breadth. “Will you be going?”

“Huh?” Lucas blinks again, speechless. If nothing else at least his eyes will be incredibly hydrated. 

“To the party?” Eliott’s hand twitches by his side, a half movement towards Lucas that is quickly aborted. 

“Ah, maybe?” 

“Alone?”

“With friends I guess. Unlike you. Lucille must be so excited.”

“I haven’t mentioned it to her actually. I was thinking of going on my own. It would be good to get to know people without having to spend all my time dancing with her.” Lucas can’t deny the hitch in his breath at that. He doesn’t want to be a homewrecker but there is this little voice in the back of his mind which has continued to hiss “mine,” like an angry kitten who has just discovered his claws, ever since he first learned of Lucille’s existence. 

It is this same voice that whispers something else in his ear.

“You never smelled like anyone else,” Lucas realises. It hadn’t occurred to him before but now that he thinks about it he can’t forget it. When Eliott raises an eyebrow he flushes pink. “I mean… that’s why I was so surprised that you had a girlfriend.” Other than, of course, the fact that Eliott had invited him over to his flat to smoke weed and drink and flirt. “You just smell like you.”  _ And a little like me too,  _ he doesn’t say, although it was true when he’d left Eliott’s apartment. Despite the work of the suppressants his scent had rubbed off onto Eliott, weak as it was. And even now he doesn’t smell like Lucille, so either they only spent a little time together that Friday evening or he’s taken care to wash thoroughly. Lucas knows which option he’d prefer to be true and it isn’t the one which requires a shower. And also, now that he thinks about it, if Eliott had washed to meticulously he wouldn’t still have traces of Lucas’ scent hovering around him.

“Oh yeah? And what does that smell like?” His eyes are so intense, so fucking blue, Lucas feels like he’s falling into an ocean the consistency of a vat of syrup every time he makes eye contact, he can almost taste it, sweet and salty and sticky against the back of his tongue.

“Vanilla milk.” Lucas admits. “Some kind of spice. Cinnamon maybe, or nutmeg.” He closes his eyes for a moment to inhale, then exhales slowly. He tells himself its not so that he can keep that scent in his lungs for a little longer but he’s a proven liar at this point so anything could be true. “A little like chai latte, actually. There’s some chocolate in there, every now and again.” Mostly when Eliott is looking at Lucas with those oceanic eyes.

Lucas doesn’t ask but Eliott somehow knows exactly what Lucas wants. “You smell like the rain. Fresh. Soothing.” His nose flares. “Sometimes it’s like the thick scent after a thunderstorm in the middle of summer, and at other times it’s like a spring shower. It’s a little citrusy when you’re annoyed.” Well. That’s… unexpected. Both Mika and Yann have commented in the past that his scent is fresh, but too weak to get a real read on it, just like how a beta’s scent should be. The fact that Eliott can put it into words so easily...

This is too intimate. He doesn’t know how to escape it though, he doesn’t want to walk away and he wants Eliott to leave even less. 

“I’ll be at the party.” His decision is abrupt and it seems to shake Eliott out of the unwavering spotlight gaze he has been focusing on Lucas’ entire being. Lucas feels like he can breathe again now that the heat between them has dimmed a little. 

“Okay.” The bell rings and they both jump so badly that Lucas’ feet actually leave the floor for a moment and Eliott lurches forward to steady him. They stare at each other, faces only a fraction apart, until Lucas realises that the bell signals the end of lunch and these hallways are about to be swarming with teenagers on their way to class. He forces himself to pull away, watching how Eliott’s hand falls from where it has seared a mark on Lucas’ forearm. He gives an awkward nod and a half shrug and turns to leave, pausing only for a second as Eliott speaks again. “I don’t smell like her because we barely spend any time together these days.” He doesn’t turn around to look at Eliott before he starts walking again, but he can’t stop the small smile that blossoms on his mouth. It tastes like hope. As much as he tries to swallow it down, squash it in his belly, it persists. 

He’s almost sure he can feel Eliott’s gaze on his back as he walks away, sharp points of warmth between his shoulder blades. He refuses to put an extra swing into his hips though, as tempting as it is. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to the people who commented last chapter, i know it was a bit of a slow one and i appreciate you guys so much you dont even know!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On Friday night, when Lucas leaves the flat just before 9pm, he does so with a little spring in his step and a flutter of anxiety.

On Friday night, when Lucas leaves the flat just before 9pm, he does so with a little spring in his step and a flutter of anxiety. By the time he’s reached the designated meet up place this has escalated into full blown butterflies in his stomach. Butterflies with claws and teeth. 

He isn’t wearing anything special. Mika had been eyeing him when he left like a super protective mother bear just waiting to pounce, had Lucas given him reason to, and dressing up as if this were a date would certainly count. After he’d shut the door behind himself he’d paused to paint two lines on each cheek, using a little pot that Daphne had shoved into his hands that afternoon when he’d protested wearing a costume. She had insisted that he use it to at least try and fit into the theme of the party and he really couldn’t be bothered to start an argument by ignoring her. 

The sky is dark and cloudless but he can never see many stars thanks to the light pollution of the city so he doesn’t bother trying to look up. He is glad for the hoodie, as bland as it might be it is a much welcome source of warmth against the chill of the wind. 

There is already a crowd waiting by the time he gets there, he can see Yann, Arthur and Basile near the front, but Eliott hasn’t arrived yet. He goes to stand with them, jostling their shoulders with a grin when they don’t notice him straight away. Daphne is speaking but Lucas only really half listens, the majority of his attention is focused outwards, into the shadows of the buildings, as if Eliott will spring from one of them any second. 

Five minutes later and the world is strobe lights, screaming and dance music and Lucas can feel every moment of it in his bones. The vibration of the bass is intense, and the room is thick with people throwing themselves over the makeshift dance floor and making out against the walls. The air smells like sweat and his nose itches a little at the concentration of people in one place. It’s different to when he’s in a normal crowd in the city or even at school, everyone is so hyper and excited that their scents are exaggerated in the enclosed space. 

He stands in the corner, by a table set up with drinks. There are a multitude of beers and spirits, as well as several cartons of juice poured into jugs. He grabs a cup of orange and sips at the drink, scrunching his nose at the slightly sour taste. It grates on his tongue after only half a cup but he continues to drink for a lack of something better to do. When it’s empty he sets it back on the table he’s leaning against and turns to watch the crowd. He keeps half an eye on the door, just in case.

He isn’t sure how long he’s been stood there when an alpha passes by, a little too close, eyeing the bare skin at his neck. A jolt of panic flashes through him. There is no way she should be able to pick his scent out in this crowd, not when it’s beta weak, he took his pill before he left the house this morning and the only thing that would affect it is-

Shit. Alcohol, the strong kind too. He thought that juice had tasted weird. And there have been at least four or five songs between his drink and now, which is plenty of time for it to start kicking in.

The alpha moves on, but he’s on edge now. Tense like a bow string. Does he wait, on the off chance that Eliott will turn up, or does he do the smart thing and leave? Chances are if he were to wait the scent of other omegas in the room would help mask any subtle changes of his own body, but if Eliott shows up Lucas isn’t certain he can keep enough distance between them to ensure that it really is only a subtle difference. His body feels electric enough on the suppressants when he’s around Eliott, he has no idea what it’ll do to him with the alcohol negating their effect. Whenever he’s drank in the past it’s always been beer with a low percentage, and whatever was in the jug of juice he’d taken his drink from had been anything but low, if the slight fuzz in his brain is anything to go by. 

A cup won’t be enough to wash away the entirety of the effectiveness of the pill, his experiments in the past show it takes more than six or seven beers to mimic this exact side effect, and he knows the only change will be the slight change in scent if he doesn’t drink more, but is that enough to hint at exactly what he is, is the question. 

And maybe this is a sign. Maybe this is fate telling him to get himself out of this stupid situation he’s put himself in. 

It doesn't matter though, in the end, because this is the moment Eliott chooses to walk through the door. He towers over most of the people in the room and just the sight of him sends Lucas’ heart racing. His hair is the same mess that it always is, and he’s wearing a black mask over the lower half of his face, but Lucas would recognise those eyes and that posture anywhere. He can’t actually smell him yet but the memory of his scent sits heavy in the back of Lucas’ throat, thick like whipped cream. 

It takes him a solid minute to realise that Eliott isn’t alone, and the smile he hadn’t even realised had been tugging at his lips vanishes like it never existed. 

There’s a girl by his side, easily recognisable as the same beta who had met Eliott outside of his apartment last week. Lucille. Lucas’ breath stutters in his throat and he feels cold, even with the abundance of body heat in the room. 

It’s in this moment that Lucas realises he actually expected Eliott to come alone. Even though he’d been telling himself that getting involved with an alpha was a stupid idea, even though he’d known from the start that the only way this could end was in tears. Even though these days he seems to spend most of his spare time talking himself out of touching Eliott. He somehow _still_ _actually allowed himself to assume that Eliott would choose him._ What had happened to the smart boy who had stood outside of Eliott’s apartment knowing that he was no competition for a beta girl?

Stupid, stupid,  _ stupid. _

Too many lies, too many hearts primed for breaking. 

He isn’t naive though, he tells himself, numb to the core and trying to force his mind through the motions of thinking. Best case scenario Eliott might have turned up without his girlfriend, Lucas might have done something he’d end up regretting down the line when Eliott figured out exactly what he was and went back to his stable relationship, leaving Lucas alone again. A week of happiness maybe, in between. Enough to ruin any chance he had at pretending he was okay on his own with his lies and his empty heart.  _ Yeah.  _ He swallows so hard it hurts his throat. This is for the best. 

If you don’t get a taste of something you can’t miss it, right?  _ Right? _

God, he’s so  _ stupid _ . And Eliott is a dick.

Lucas turns away before Eliott can get within shouting distance. He isn’t sure if he’d actually been heading in Lucas’ direction because he wanted to talk, wanted to rub Lucas’ face in Lucille or just because he’d picked a direction to head in and Lucas happened to be in his way, but he doesn’t care. 

He takes his aching heart and his stinging eyes and heads towards the exit. 

Before he can leave though there’s a girl in his way. An alpha, the same alpha as from before actually. Her eyes are dark to match her hair, which is pulled back into a tight ponytail. She is tall, slim but leanly muscled and she stands between him and the exit in a black tank top and matching jeans. Within thirty seconds she’s sidled up close to him, nose pressed against his neck. Lucas is a block of ice against her. 

“You smell odd.” She shouts it into his ear and his whole head rings with the sound. It seems to echo with the music but Lucas is pretty sure that’s just in his head. “Like lemon. I like it. Let’s dance!” She isn’t Eliott but she is an alpha, and the pheromones that surround her are locking onto the alcohol-created chink in the armour of his suppressants. He isn’t attracted to her whatsoever, no shock there, but there’s a part of him that preens under her attention, an aching, sad part that ultimately convinces him to let her pull him onto the dancefloor. He lets her take charge, flows naturally with the music and with the movement of the girl and there’s nothing sexual about it really, but when he glances up the first thing he sees is Eliott, stood across the room and staring right at him.

Lucille is a moon orbiting him, trying to get his attention and failing miserably. Lucas feels vindictively pleased for a horrible moment before his brain reminds him that Eliott chose her, brought her,  _ wants her _ . Not Lucas. And that just makes him feel worse, makes him almost want to go home with this girl just so that he doesn’t have to spend another night on his own. But that would be stupid, and potentially dangerous considering he has no idea who she is, if she goes to his school or knows any of his friends. The girl senses the distance between them growing and uses her fingers on his jaw to drag his attention back to her. His heart ricochets in his chest for an awful moment, assuming she’ll try to pull him into a kiss, but she just grins at him and bobs her head in time with the beat, content now that his attention is, as far as she’s concerned, back on her.

He’s about to look for Eliott again, a force of habit at this point, but the lights are suddenly brighter and he blinks hard against them, half raising an arm for protection from the glare, Daphne is shouting something about this not being a drill, and then everyone is running. 

He loses his newly acquired alpha klingon in the mad rush, and he manages to find time to be grateful for this as he shoves himself forward with the writhing mass of people trying to exit through a single door.

As soon as he can taste fresh air he’s running full speed down the pavement towards the gates, pulling away from the crowd a little just in case any of them get a nose full of his scent before he has the chance to fully sober up and take tomorrows pill. Its all for nothing though, because the second that Lucas pauses to catch his breath someone is taking hold of his hoodie sleeve and yanking him against the side of a building. His body knows it’s Eliott before his brain does and he goes slack against him for one confusing moment, before he can gather himself enough to shove away. They stare at each other in the darkness, Lucas is flushed and breathing hard and Eliott hasn’t even broken a sweat.

“Where’s Lucille?” Lucas finally asks, all too aware of the now fading shouts of the security guard, who seems to have broken off to follow the larger group of students that Lucas had left only moments ago. 

Eliott shrugs, “I don’t know. I was too focused on following you.”

“Well,” Lucas frowns. “That was stupid of you. You shouldn’t lose sight of people you care about so easily.”

“Yeah.” Eliott laughs quietly, the skin around his eyes soft with amusement. “That’s why I followed you.” It takes a moment for Lucas to register the words and by the time he does Eliott is already pushing away from the wall. “Let me walk you home.”

“I know the way.” Lucas snaps, a little caught off guard. This isn’t the reunion he’d imagined having after Eliott’s entrance with Lucille. He’d figured the next time they spoke there would be slightly more moral high ground on his part (though not much, considering he’d been all but full on flirting with Eliott before, despite his decision not to, and despite the existence of Lucille, although to be fair, Lucas hadn’t actually known about her at first), and either some embarrassing apologies about miscommunication or some snide comments on Eliott’s behalf, both of which, of course, Lucas would have ignored. 

“That’s good to know.” Eliott is still smiling with his eyes, and his shoulders do a tiny little shrug up towards his ears as he ducks his head to examine his shoes. It looks involuntary to Lucas, perhaps the weirdest reaction he’s seen in response to being snapped at but then, Eliott is kind of a weird guy. “Really though, it’s late.”

“I’m not a helpless omega.” The words leave his mouth like bullets, and he has prime viewing for when they hit Eliott. They don’t leave a smear of blood, much to Lucas’ growing disappointment, but they do seem to have an impact. Eliott’s eyebrow twitches, closely followed by his nose, and Lucas knows for certain in that moment that Eliott can smell that something isn’t quite right. If Lucas is lucky he’ll put it down to being part of such a large crowd in one room. 

“There’s nothing helpless about omegas.” Eliott says after an awkward pause. “And I’d advise you not to say something like that in front of an omega or you’re likely to find out exactly why. The rumours of their fragility are greatly exaggerated, as my sister would be happy to tell you.”

Lucas flushes dark pink and forces his eyes away. Well. He can lie to the world, apparently, but he can’t lie to himself; Eliott’s words leave a hot trail down his chest, fingertip shaped burns against the inside of his ribcage. 

“All the same though, it really is late, and a-” Eliott’s eyes are laser focused on Lucas’ face. “A beta such as yourself can get into almost as much trouble as an alpha might, given the right circumstances.” His grin is crooked now, but Lucas gets the feeling there’s something deeper under that easy expression. Eliott knows something isn’t right. He probably just can’t quite grasp what it is. The faster this night is over the better, Lucas decides. Eliott is still talking and Lucas allows himself to tune back in. “You should be offering to walk me home really,” he is saying. “I’m an alpha, I could get into all sorts of trouble.” Lucas rolls his eyes and starts to walk away, but he doesn’t protest when Eliott jogs to catch up, and then slows his stride so that his long legs don’t carry him too far away from Lucas’ side.

They’re both silent for the first half of the walk, as little winding roads give way to an open space and a view across the water. Lucas can feel Eliott studying him from time to time, but he keeps his gaze focused forward, too lost in his own confusion and uneasiness. He’s constantly hyper aware of how close they are to one another but this has been the case since they first met and Lucas seems to at least be getting used to it.

It is Eliott who first breaks the silence, although a part of Lucas has been bursting to ask him why he’d bothered telling Lucas about the party, and asking if he was going to show, if he’d been planning on bringing Lucille along the whole time. Eliott doesn’t strike Lucas as cruel, but then Lucas doesn’t really know him all that well, as much as it feels the opposite at times.

“So.” He drawls, sticking his hands into his jacket pockets more violently than is necessary. “Who was that alpha you were cosying up to earlier?” Lucas doesn't answer. He refuses to even look in Eliott’s direction. “She goes to our school?”

“I don’t know.” Lucas says finally, when it is clear Eliott isn’t about to give in. 

“You don’t know? Well, what was her name?” This is awkward. 

“I… don’t know that either.”

“Wow.” Eliott forces a laugh. Lucas can tell it isn’t genuine because when he turns to examine Eliott his jaw is clenched so tight it’s a wonder his teeth haven’t been pushed lose. He can almost hear them grinding together. “Why were you dancing with her then? If neither of you were bothered enough to exchange names?”

“Why do you sound so jealous?” Lucas looks out over the water as he speaks. “Do I really need to remind you that you walked through that door with Lucille tagging behind you like a puppy?” Lucas doesn’t have it in him to feel guilty. He’s too rubbed raw by jealousy. 

“She wasn’t supposed to be there.” Eliott nudges their shoulders together and doesn’t back off until Lucas glares at him. “I told her I wanted to go alone.”

“Yes.” Lucas snorts. “That worked so well.” He hates this. He really  _ really  _ hates this. Nothing makes sense. He wants Eliott so bad that it hurts, and yet it’ll hurt even more if he gets to have him only to lose him again. So really he should encourage Eliott to stay with Lucille, but every time he sees them together in his head or in real life he wants to set everyone in the room on fire. He doesn’t want to be an omega, but he kind of wants to be Eliott’s omega. He’s incredibly annoyed at Eliott, and he doesn’t trust that Eliott isn’t just playing him, and yet there isn’t anyone else that Lucas can think of that he’d rather spend all his nights and days with. He barely knows Eliott, and yet.  _ And yet _ . 

This is all so incredibly fucked up. If only he hadn’t been born this way. In the long run he could probably handle being gay, that’s barely even a blip on his radar at times when compared to this other secret he carries around in his body. Society judges gay people but it doesn’t lock them up if they get a bit over-emotional, not anymore at least. Not for a long time.

“Lucille means a lot to me. We’ve been together for almost five years and she gets me in a way very few people do,” Eliott admits. “But I think we’re just turning in circles these days. We’ve become a habit, not a relationship.” Lucas purses his lips and nods once to show he’s still listening. “I want to be in a relationship, just not with her.”

“So then why not break it off?” He gives in and finally asks the one thing that has haunted him all night. “The other day, at school, you made it seem like-” Lucas glances around, a little paranoid. “I mean. You asked me to come to the party, you said that you’d be coming alone. I thought…” he sighs out heavily through his nose and ducks his chin into the neck of his hoodie under the guise of being cold, so he can hide a bit of the unhappiness on his face at the cost of his words being a little more muffled. “It just seems cruel to everyone involved. If you don’t want to be with her then why stay? Whether you want to be with someone else or not surely the right thing to do would be to break up with her before you do something you might regret.”  _ Like cheat on her with an omega pretending to be a beta pretending to be straight _ . 

“When you’ve been involved with someone for so long it’s difficult to imagine life without them, in some ways.” Eliott says, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets and tilting his head back to look at the faint, faint stars in the sky. The same stars Lucas hadn’t bothered with earlier. He follows Eliott’s gaze now though. It’s amazing how much brighter they look when Eliott is stood at his side. “When things change it can be hard to accept that, and it’s even harder when a complete curveball is thrown into the mix,” he sends a pointed look at Lucas and they both laugh a little awkwardly. “And it’s like… you tell yourself that new things are good. But new things are scary too. What if you’ve lived the past five years in a relationship you thought was enough, but you meet one person and you’ve barely known them a week before you realise that the past five years pale in comparison to the handful of hours you’ve spent in their presence?” 

Lucas holds his breath for a little longer that is advisable and by the time he breathes out he sounds winded. 

“Yeah,” Eliott says, as though Lucas had spoken. He supposes his silence speaks for itself in a way. Lucas knows what it feels like to have his world turned upside down, but he guesses it’s a little different when you’re already attached to someone else who is supposed to be your world.

“This is me.” Lucas nods at the apartment building across the road five minutes of silence and walking later. Eliott looks up at the building in question and then back down at Lucas. They’re stood facing each other now that Lucas has stopped and turned towards Eliott, close enough that if either of them were to reach out they’d touch the other easily. Their eyes are locked, both caught in a spider’s web of attraction and longing and uncertainty. 

A car door opens behind him and Lucas jumps.

“Hey!” He turns. Mika is stood next to a taxi with a bag of what smells like chinese food. He looks between Lucas and Eliott with a pointedly raised eyebrow and Lucas is suddenly sure that if he doesn’t move quickly Mika will be over to interrogate Eliott, food be damned. 

“That’s Mika, my flatmate,” Lucas explains while already walking backwards. Eliott’s eyes move between them in a bizarre parody of Mika’s and Lucas rolls his eyes. “Thank you for walking me home,” he says. “I appreciate it.” And he does. He just would have appreciated it more if Lucille hadn’t been hanging over their heads like a bad omen. “I’ll see you at school.” Eliott doesn’t say anything but he does nod, watching Lucas retreat across the street. Mika slings a protective arm around Lucas’ shoulders and Lucas fights the urge the growl at him, instead choosing the easiest option available and letting Mika guide him inside and away from Eliott’s heated gaze.

“Manon is visiting,” is the first thing that Mika says to him once they’re inside and he’s shut the door firmly behind them. “There’s enough food to go around, so help yourself.” He thinks he might have escaped interrogation for a single sweet moment before Mika catches onto the back of his hoodie and yanks as Lucas tries to head towards his bedroom. “She’ll be staying in the other spare room if that’s okay with you?” Lucas nods, teetering awkwardly as Mika continues to hold his hood. “Good. And don’t think we aren’t talking about this as soon as she’s settled and we have a free moment.” He finally lets go and the weight that he’d been taking with his hand on Lucas’ hood is released all at once, so that Lucas goes stumbling forward and almost straight into the wall. Mika chortles as he heads to the kitchen to plate up the food.

_ Dammit. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gotta say the response to the last chapter sent me to another level of existence, thank you so much to everyone who commented. this one's for you guys.
> 
> we're one more day closer to the reunion guys we got this!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By some miracle of planning, Chinese food and Manon, Mika gets so caught up in everything on Friday night that he doesn’t get chance to interrogate Lucas straight away.

By some miracle of planning, chinese food and Manon, Mika gets so caught up in everything on Friday night that he doesn’t get chance to interrogate Lucas straight away. Lucas doesn’t question his good luck for once, and steals a carton of noodles and a little bag of egg rolls to squirrel away into his room while Mika isn’t looking. He eats in silence, staring out over the city with the window open, even though really it’s too cold for that. The sound of the city is musical in its own way, with the distant noise of car horns and the background murmur of people enjoying life in Paris. 

When he goes to bed he leaves the window open just a crack to let fresh air in and cleanse the smell of food before it gives him a headache. His suppressant is laid innocently on his bedside counter with a glass of water so he can take it as soon as he wakes up in the morning. He presses his cheek into his cold pillow and stares at it for a moment, before rolling over with a huff. 

He sleeps but it isn’t really restful. The first time he wakes up its because he’s shivering so hard that his teeth are rattling. He forces himself out of bed to shut the window and to drag a spare blanket out from the closet, and then he cocoons himself like a caterpillar creating a chrysalis. It takes him only a few minutes to fall back to sleep despite still being cold, but equally it feels like only minutes before he wakes again, this time to the sound of unfamiliar footsteps in the kitchen. He lies frozen, heart in his throat, for a whole minute before he remembers that Manon is staying here, and that it must be her.

The third time he wakes it is almost but not quite light outside. Birds are just starting to sing and Lucas groans, yanking a pillow from the other side of the bed to shove over his head in an effort to dampen the too-cheerful noise. He doesn’t remember falling asleep again but when someone knocks on his door, loud and abrasive, it startles him awake. It’s still a bit cold in the apartment so he wraps one of the smaller blankets around his shoulder, downs his pill with a gulp of water and shuffles off of the bed, walking a wonky, fuddled line to his door and leaning against it with a soft sigh as he tries to remember how handles work. 

“You alright in there?” It’s Mika. Of course it’s Mika. 

Lucas makes a noise that sounds half zombie scream and half disgruntled “I ordered salad dressing  _ on the side, _ ” restaurant customer. He opens the door. Mika is stood on the other side, fully dressed and with a fresh cup of coffee in each hand. They’re both still steaming but Lucas takes one, drains it with barely a wince at the burning sensation it leaves on the roof of his mouth, hands the empty cup back to Mika and then snatches the second one out of his hand a second before it makes it to Mika’s mouth. He drains this one too, as Mika watches, unimpressed.

“It’s a good job I know you well enough to have waited almost ten minutes post coffee brew. If these had been fully fresh you wouldn’t have any skin left on the inside of your mouth.”

Lucas gives no shits. He’d have drank them anyway. 

Mika rolls his eyes and gestures Lucas out of his bedroom and into the living room, where Manon is waiting. She beams at him. She looks pale in the sunlight streaming in through the partially closed curtains, and the skin around her eyes is tight with tired tension, like she hasn’t been sleeping well. But she looks happy to see him and her scent is a welcome floral note in the air. 

“I’m so glad you guys still have a spare room,” she tells them as Mika heads back to the kitchen for three fresh coffees. He puts one down in front of each of them, giving Lucas a warning look when he starts to reach for it straight away. “I don’t know what i’d have done if you’d got someone else in.”

“We’d have made them sleep on the couch,” Mika jokes and Lucas rolls his eyes. He only half pays attention as Manon talks about Charles and why she’s come back. He cares, of course he does, but he still aches with everything he felt last night and his attention is divided. “But, since we’re on the topic. If you’re going to be staying here there are some things you should know…” he glances meaningfully at Lucas and suddenly this conversation is the only thing Lucas  _ can _ pay attention to.

Lucas and Mika stare at each other in silence for a long, long moment, before Mika backs off with a frustrated sigh. “Lucas uses up like 70% of the hot water every week. If you want to guarantee a nice shower you better get in there before he does.” Manon is looking between them like she’s not really sure what’s going on, but Lucas can feel the tension drain from his body as soon as Mika lets him off the hook. 

Manon is an omega. Lucas is pretty sure she’ll figure this whole thing out eventually on her own, if he gives her enough time, and this way he gets to avoid all the awkward heavily concerned conversations he’s already had with Mika. It’s not that he thinks Manon would judge him. It’s just that… yeah, no, he thinks Manon would judge him. She can handle herself well in almost every aspect of life without taking suppressants, unlike Lucas. 

“I’m going to go steal some of that hot water,” Lucas announces, standing. “And then get dressed. Catch you guys later.”

“Damn right you will,” Mika shouts after him as he leaves. “We still need to talk about last night!”

“What happened last night?”

“Oh.” There’s an awkward pause and Lucas hesitates at his door only long enough to see what Mika’s going to say. “He stole all my egg rolls.” Lucas rolls his eyes.

After he showers and changes into fresh clothes Lucas picks up his phone and stares at it. Eliott had given him his number when they’d hung out at Eliott’s place but Lucas hasn’t used it yet. 

**Lucas**

_ Do you think we should talk about last night? Do you have plans this afternoon? _

He regrets it as soon as he sends it but by then it’s too late. 

**Eliott**

_ Yeah, I think we should. I can’t today though. I’ll see you monday? _

Lucas doesn’t reply, torn between relief and frustration. 

There’s a knock on the door and when he opens it Manon is stood waiting for him.

“Can I come in?” 

Lucas nods and moves to one side so that she can get past him. She plonks herself down in his desk chair and spins around once, twice, and then pauses to face him. 

“I know something is going on with you. I just wanted to, I don’t know, offer a friendly ear to talk to or whatever.” She smiles softly at him and Lucas swallows hard past the lump in his throat. “Or, we don’t have to talk. I know a place that does killer waffles.”

“Thanks,” Lucas forces out. “I’m fine though. I have a lot of homework to do.” Manon nods, taking the hint. She stands and moves past him to the door, hesitating for a moment as their shoulders brush, and then whirling around to drag him into a hug. “You smelt nicer last night.” She says it quietly but it might as well be a shout right into his ear. “I don’t like whatever soap you used in the shower.” It’s subtle enough that he can’t tell whether she knows more than she’s letting on or not. Instinct screams at him that she does, that she’s figured him out. She smelt him last night with the alcohol in his veins and then this morning fresh on suppressant. She knows, she must do. But then his brain kicks in and he can breathe again. He did use a new soap this morning, a cheap one from the supermarket after the last of his own decent block ran out, and Mika had threatened him with actual bodily harm if he continued to steal his ‘special’ soaps.

“Well.” He forces a laugh. “Money is tight you know, shitty soap is better than no soap.” Especially when most of his government handled income goes towards either his suppressant dealer or Mika for rent. 

“Yeah,” she pats him fondly on the shoulder and smiles one last time before heading for the door again. “Just remember that I’m here if you need me okay?”

“Yeah.” He says. “Thanks. I’ll… I will do.”

And then he’s alone with his thoughts again as the door clicks softly behind her. 

 

The weekend passes unfairly quickly. He studies, eats, studies some more, eats some more, and passes out for naps in between. Avoiding Mika is easy when he can use homework as an excuse. He doesn’t leave the flat for more than 48 hours straight and by the time Monday morning rolls around and he steps outside he’s almost forgotten what the sun feels like on his skin. He squints like a vampire as he heads out onto the street and towards school. 

He’s at his locker just before 9am, already alert and on the lookout for Eliott’s fluffy hair bobbing a head above the rest of the school. Emma appears to talk about Manon, briefly, and then Daphne is running up to them both to announce that she thinks they’ve been busted and that the principal is onto them.

“I told him we were going to paint over the mural but I don’t know if he believed me. The security guard saw us on Friday so it’s not a huge stretch to think of why the furniture was moved.” She says. 

“Oh shit, really?” Emma tugs at her backpack nervously.

“You didn’t see?”

“I was in a classroom with Alex.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“You guys…” Daphne makes a couple of obscene hand gestures and Lucas snorts.  _ Real subtle, Daph. _

“Yep!” Emma grins at them both. “When I got back everyone was already gone. Wasn’t sure why but the security guard showing up explains it.” A couple of girls pass by, pausing to tell Daphne how much they enjoyed the party and Daphne looks between Lucas and Emma with wide eyes.

“At least the foyer has become the place to be?” She hazards. “Eliott has already offered to paint over the mural too so that’ll give us points with the principal.” Lucas’ head jerks around to stare at Daphne. Hearing Eliott’s name dropped into casual conversation like that is weirdly jarring. The girls continue to talk over his head but Lucas is only just barely paying attention, brain too caught up on a way to shoehorn himself into seeing Eliott again.

“If he needs help painting it, I’m free.” He manages to keep a mostly straight face. The rest of the conversation descends back into a blurr and he just about manages to remind Daphne once more to keep him in the loop before he leaves the two of them to head towards Arthur, Basile and Yann. 

“Are you coming to Basile’s party on Saturday?” Yann asks him. 

“Yeah, sure, I’ll be there.” He wonders if Eliott will be there. He wonders if there will ever be a point from this moment on where Eliott isn’t the first person to come to mind whenever anything ever happens. 

Somehow, he doubts it. It’s like when you do a load of white clothes in a wash and forget to take that one new red item out and then suddenly everything is pink, no chance of salvaging anything. Only in this scenario by adding himself to the mix Eliott has dyed Lucas’ entire life Eliott-coloured and now everything he looks at reminds him of the other boy. 

They part ways shortly after to head to class, where he spends another hour thinking about Eliott. Especially when Eliott texts him to ask him about the mural. His heart thuds in his chest so hard he has to glance up to make sure neither Imane or Alexia hear its echo. They set the date for Wednesday, at 1pm, and in his mind Lucas is already counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds until they’re alone in a room again. He can’t stop thinking about what would have happened, if anything, should Mika have arrived home ten minutes earlier and not seen them. He can’t stop thinking about Lucille, and how much he feels like the ‘other woman.’ He can’t stop thinking about how he doesn’t really care, if it means that he gets to spend more time with Eliott.

To distract himself he gets into a talk about religion and sexuality with Imane, but it doesn't leave him feeling any better afterwards. He’s more confused, if anything. His skin itches so badly it is all he can do to stop himself scratching at it. It feels like he’s covered in ants.

 

Later than night Mika finally manages to corral him in the living room. He even brings a bowl of fresh pasta with mozzarella and tomato sauce to sweeten the ‘you will talk to me,’ deal. Lucas uses the food as an excuse to avoid words but this only works for as long as the pasta lasts, which, considering how hungry he is, isn’t all that long. 

“So,” Mika starts with a forced smile. “That was the alpha from the other week then? The one I saw you with on Friday night?” Lucas nods, still silent as he wipes a smear of red sauce off of his lower lip with his finger, and then onto his jeans, figuring they’re due for a wash soon anyway. “Actually, interestingly enough, I could smell two alphas on you.” He raises an eyebrow when Lucas doesn't reply again. “Two. This, from a boy who has vowed to avoid 99% of alphas in existence?” Lucas blushes.

“I danced with one of them, a girl.”

“And the other?”

“Eliott.” Lucas can’t help or hide the small, quiet smile that blossoms on his mouth, and Mika catches it easily. 

“Oh shit.” His jaw drops. “You’re in love!” Lucas flinches and glances around the room out of habit more than anything else. Manon isn’t even home at the minute. 

“No!” His protest is more a yelp than a word but all it does is cause Mika’s grin to grow. “No, No I’m not! I just… I like him. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Hell yes it is!” Mika crows. “When’s the wedding?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Lucas scowls and shoves his empty bowl onto the coffee table. “Let me just ask his girlfriend, I’m sure she has a date planned, they’ve been together for, oh, five years.” He tries to stand but Mika shoves him back onto the couch again and they just glare at each other for a moment, before Mika looks away with a sigh.

“I’m sorry.” He offers finally. “Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed. I wasn’t expecting that.”

Lucas chuckles darkly. “Well, that makes two of us doesn’t it?”

The silence is thick, tension palpable.

“I don’t know what to do.” He finally admits, voice wavering ever so slightly. He swipes at his eyes and blinks hard until his vision isn’t so blurry. “I never thought i’d actually meet an alpha that made me want to break my own rules. I never really thought i’d meet a  _ guy _ . It’s like, part of me wants him constantly, you know? And the other part is busy hating myself for it. He has a girlfriend. A nice girl, as far as I know, who doesn’t deserve to have her life ruined like this.” He looks beseechingly at Mika, who is watching him with sad, solemn eyes. “And what if i’m making this up in my head? I thought at first that there might be something between us, before I knew he was already in a relationship. I thought he was flirting? But then the next thing I know,  _ boom _ , Lucille exists. And then when he cornered me afterwards to tell me they were barely in a relationship anymore and he hinted so heavily that he liked me, I thought maybe things could still work out anyway. Even though I’m an omega and lying to him about it. But, then, again, Lucille was at the party that Eliott told me he’d come to alone. I don-” He covers his face with his hands and makes a helpless, pained noise. 

“Hey, hey,” Mika shuffles closer and gently pulls at Lucas’ hands until he’s holding them in his own lap. “Hey. It’s okay. Take a deep breath.” Lucas does so. “Now, slow down a bit okay? You’re going a little fast.”

“Sorry,” Lucas breathes, clenching his eyes shut.

“It’s fine, everything is fine.” Everything is very much  _ not fine. _

“I’m just so confused.” He whispers it, like it’s a secret, only nothing has ever been more obvious than this. “After the party got busted it was  _ me  _ he chased after, not Lucille. He walked  _ me _ home, and if you hadn’t seen us I think he might have kissed me.”  _ I think I might have let him.  _

“I gotta say,” Mika inhales sharply. “Not sure I like this guy.”

Lucas’ snorts.

“Honestly, he’s nice.” He insists. “Funny, kind. Loves dubstep and art. He has these cute little drawings on his wall, of these racoons that he sees himself as? And, like, I don’t know. He has this intensity. When I meet his gaze I can barely talk myself into looking away. But he’s also kind of adorable? He does this shoulder shrug thing that-”

“Alright, well.” Mika makes a face, interrupting the beginning of what would probably have turned into a full on ode to Eliott. “I trust your judgement. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I mean, you did turn all our laundry pink the last time you did it because you forgot to take out your red boxers.”

“You’re never letting me live that down are you?”

“Not ever.”

They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes, smiles still fresh on their faces. 

“What do you think I should do, Mika?”

“Go with your heart kid.” Mika shrugs carelessly, but he smiles like he’s been waiting for Lucas to ask. “You know how I feel about the pills. And about the closet. They both serve their purposes but you have to know when to stop using them as a crutch.” 

His heart. What does Lucas’ heart want? Stupid question really. It was the only thing he was sure of, not his body, not his brain or the electrical impulses that controlled how he thought and why he did certain things. His heart was literally the only thing not speaking in tongues. Maybe it was time to give in to that. 

“I think it’s shit that he’s already in a relationship,” Mika adds, almost as an afterthought. “But sometimes you meet someone and you just know. Never happened to me, of course, but look at Manon. She left the country to be with the person she loved.”

“And now she’s back.”

“Now she’s back.” Mika agrees with a soft sigh. “But she took that risk, didn’t she? You can’t get anywhere without a little risk. Just, be careful okay? When it comes to this Eliott guy. If your instincts say he’s decent then fair enough, just keep your wits about you just in case. And if he’s playing you for a laugh you come to me, yeah?” Lucas can’t imagine Mika hurting a fly, but he nods anyway. 

“Thank you,” he adds as an afterthought. He doesn’t know where he’d be if he’d had to go through all this alone.

“Pfft,” Mika shoves at his shoulder. “I live vicariously through you at this point, kitten. Continue having adventures in love so you can regale me with the stories afterwards, yeah?” Lucas pushes back at him and then jumps off the sofa before he can retaliate again. 

“Whatever you say, old man!”

“Hey!” Mika protests, staring after Lucas as he flees to the relative safety of his bedroom. “Take that back!” Lucas sticks a finger up at him over his shoulder and Mika shakes his head. “Kids these days.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much Eliott in this chapter, I'm incredibly sad about that and i wrote the darn thing lmao. He'll be back with us tomorrow though! Anyhow I hope you guys liked it! we're on a wonky timeline at the minute and we'll be moving in and out of canon so it might be a bit of a bumpy ride lmao. This is why i needed Lisa to vanish though, bc no way would mika force either manon or lucas to sleep on the couch since they're both omegas and i figured it would just be easier to give her her own room. 
> 
> I know i keep saying it but thank you again for the comments last chapter! Im so happy you guys are enjoying this you have no idea <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1pm on Wednesday comes and goes and takes with it a good portion of whatever hope had been left in Lucas’ heart.

1pm on Wednesday comes and goes and takes with it a good portion of whatever hope had been left in Lucas’ heart. He perches on a paint can and studies the room for the first ten minutes. Paces for another five. Sits again. Checks his phone compulsively, imagining it vibrating against his leg in his pocket several times. He tries texting Eliott himself, to say he’s by the mural, to ask where he is, to complain about this god awful eye sore, but there is no response.

He jumps a mile when the door flies open, heart in his throat. For a single second he imagines Eliott sprinting into the room with an apologetic smile on his face, but that dream is dashed when he sees it’s just the girls; Imane, Alexia, Daphne, Emma and Manon. Great. Exactly the opposite of what he needs. 

At least they ignore Lucas at first, in favour of showing Manon around the room, small as it is. He uses the time to compose himself, dragging his frustration off of his face and tucking it away until it is as hidden between his ribs as is possible. He forces a smile when Emma comes over to knock their hands together with a conspiratorial wink, already mourning those few moments where they’d paid him no attention. One of the first things Manon does is complain about the mural, which, Lucas can’t blame really blame her for, and Daphne assures her they’re going to change it. 

“Right, Lucas?” Daphne looks to him and he stares at her blankly for a second before smiling, a little more genuine this time. “We’re on it?” 

“Sure. Just waiting on Eliott. He’s the artist.” He thinks he might be blushing a little, purely from talking about Eliott out loud at school with people who aren’t Mika. 

“Who is Eliott?” Manon interrupts.  _ A god among men,  _ Lucas thinks with a wistful huff.  _ A prince charming with a streak of indecision a mile wide and shit time-keeping and communication skills apparently _ .

“A third year, just arrived.” 

“He’s hot,” Alexia adds. “Shame he isn’t single.” Lucas bites the inside of his cheek so hard he can feel the imprints his teeth make in the flesh when he convinces himself to let go.  _ Real shame.  _ It’s a little embarrassing how her words send a possessive thrill through his body. It runs parallel to the guilt he feels at the reminder of Lucille. 

“You’re not single either,” Daphne reminds Alexia, who rolls her eyes. 

“I have to go.” He stands abruptly and grabs his coat before they can put up too much of a protest.

“But!” Daphne tries to stop him. “The mural?”

“Ask Eliott.” Lucas purses his lips, tonguing the inside of his cheek where it still tastes a little metallic. “If you see him.” Manon is watching him closely, her concern is palpable in the air. It smells like roses, and he doesn't want any of it. He can half hear her following him out of the room but he hopes he can move quickly enough that she won’t see which direction he goes in. 

Clearly he underestimated her though, because she catches up easily.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Lies, lies, lies. The scent of flowers dampens into the scent of decayed petals and he can see other students giving them a wide berth out of the corner of his eye. The attention makes him shudder, nervous and itching to leave. 

“Was it Eliott that Mika saw you with the other night?”

His head snaps up at that, so quickly that it sends a jolt of pain down into his shoulders. “What? What did he say?”

“Nothing really.” She’s eyeing him weirdly and he tries to calm his breathing. “Just that a friend walked you home. He didn’t mention a name but you didn’t smell like anyone familiar when I saw you, so I just figured…”

“Well, don’t! It’s not important, okay? Just drop it!” He regrets shouting straight away, it had burst out of him before he could get a handle on it, but Manon doesn’t seem afraid. She takes a step towards him, not away from, and that just makes him feel worse. Why does she want to help so badly? There’s nothing wrong. Nothing. He’s  _ fine.  _ She’s starting to speak again but he’s had enough. Enough of today, of this week. Of other people thinking they know him when  _ god _ , no one knows anything. “Sorry.” He mutters, not meeting her eyes, and turning on his feel to stalk away before she can finish whatever it was she had started to say. 

 

He avoids both her and Mika that evening at home too. Both of them try knocking on his bedroom door but he pretends he can’t hear them, turning his music up a little louder and flopping onto his belly on the bed, burrowing into his pillow and the safe scent of home. He is grateful that Eliott has never been here, that nothing in this house smells like him. He isn’t sure how he’d cope with having the scent of both of them here, in the place he feels most comfortable, twined together in the bed sheets. 

 

On Thursday afternoon the bell for his last class rings and he leaves with his head tucked between his shoulders, hoping to avoid anyone that he knows. He’s managed it so far today, having only run into Yann once this morning at his locker. He can still remember the confused, hurt expression on his best friend’s face when Lucas had brushed him off with an excuse of having to go to the library for lunch instead of their usual meet up place. Yann knows him too well, knows his scent too well even if, to him, it’s beta weak. He knows Lucas lied. That’s all Lucas can seem to do these days, lie and pretend and wear so many masks he’s lost track of what most of them look like. 

Of course, the issue with spending most of your time glaring the floor into submission is that it makes it so much easier to run straight into people you’re hoping to avoid, and so when Lucas turns the corner on his way out of class he doesn’t get any visual warning whatsoever. 

He scents cinnamon milk and chocolate only seconds before Eliott is right there in front of him, and Lucas is forced to look up. Eliott gazes into his eyes like something out of a romance film, all poetic fragility and Lucas allows it for all of five seconds before he forces himself to look away.

“Hi.” Eliott tries to smile at him. It is a wobbly, colt-footed thing, struggling to find its place on his face.

“Hey.” 

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” Eliott looks rough. There are shadows under his eyes, his hair is more of a mess than usual, and his scent is off. A little more sour milk than cinnamon. Sad. Lucas doesn’t like it. But then he also doesn’t like being stood up and strung along, so. Eliott’s face twists, unsure, and Lucas wonders whether his scent had spiked with something unpleasant enough for Eliott to notice. “I just want to say sorry.” God, his voice is so strained. Lucas aches to touch him. He nods, hesitant, glancing around as students filter past them, voices raised in excitement for the end of the school day or for after-school clubs. He lets Eliott usher him to the side, where it’s a little quieter. “I wanted to come, I really did.” He starts, and Lucas glances away, uncomfortable at the intensity with which Eliott strives for eye contact. “There was an issue I had to deal with.”

He can’t help himself. “Are you okay?” He doesn’t know what it is about his words, maybe the way that he says them or the look on his face, but Eliott sees something within him that relaxes his shoulders. He breathes out slowly, like it’s the first time today his chest hasn’t been tight with air.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s all sorted now.” Eliott manages to catch his eyes again, and this time he holds them, with whatever stupid eye power he has. Lucas cannot look away. He doesn’t even think he wants to. “I was thinking, to make amends you could come over to mine tomorrow? We can smoke, drink a little. You can choose the music.” His lips twitch into a smile and Lucas is helpless against it. He smiles back. It’s incredibly frustrating how Eliott can force him to move on from ‘must avoid,’ to ‘sure let’s hang out,’ in moments. 

“Alright.”

“Alright.”

They stare into each others eyes in silence for a moment more before a loud laugh somewhere down the other end of the corridor startles Lucas into glancing away sharply, to check that whoever it is isn’t laughing at them. When he looks back Eliott is still studying him. 

“Tomorrow, then.” Lucas says, to break the quiet. Eliott nods, still watching. “Right. I’ll meet you after school then, by the bus stop?” 

“It’s a date.” It’s a what now. “I’ll see you then.”  _ It’s a what now. _

Eliott leaves while Lucas is still glued to the floor with shock. A date. Is that literal? Or just, like, what people say when they make plans. He’s never said that to Yann or to Bas or Arthur, but Manon has said it to him when they’ve made plans in the past with a mutual understanding that it isn’t actually a date.  _ Shit _ . He considers googling it. Then he considers googling how to become a monk because clearly relationships aren’t for him, friendship or otherwise. Human contact is a hard no. But then he remembers the way Eliott’s lips looked so soft, the way he smelled when he was comfortable, sprawled on the couch, so fucking inviting. The way his eyes were hazy through the cloud of smoke he exhaled into the room as they passed the join between themselves. 

He regrets this immediately of course, getting hard in the middle of a school corridor was never on his to do list.  _ Think about old people _ , he tells himself, and slings his jacket over his arm to hide his crotch, just in case. 

 

Mika doesn’t question him when he barrels through the front door and heads straight for his bedroom, but then Mika can probably smell exactly what kind of problems he’s having, and is wise enough to leave well enough alone. He’s just thankful that Manon isn’t in at the minute. That’s one conversation he is glad to avoid, it’ll be bad enough trying to meet Mika’s eyes later as it is. 

After a nice, refreshingly cold shower, Lucas shuffles into his pajamas and then into the kitchen to peruse the cupboards. His stomach perks up, rumbling loudly at him at the thought of food. He sits with Mika and Manon as he eats, letting the gentle ebb and flow of their conversation soothe him. 

Eventually sleep covers him like a velvet blanket as he lays cradled between them. If he dreams he doesn’t remember, and he wakes maybe an hour or two later to Manon gently shaking his shoulder. She tugs him up by the arm and leads him to his own room, steering him carefully when they near any sharp edges or walls. She doesn’t make him brush his teeth, though he’ll regret that in the morning, and he falls into bed with a soft ‘oomph.’ She tugs the blankets up over his back. His eyes are closed but he can feel her hovering, the scent of spring soaking into the room. He can hear her soft sigh as she leans down and presses a tiny kiss to the crown of his head, all without speaking a word between them. 

He’s already asleep again by the time she closes the door softly behind her. 

 

Friday morning is a bit of a mess. 

He’s so busy thinking about Eliott and the evening ahead of them that he forgets to take his suppressant when he wakes up. He doesn’t realise until he’s already in school, halfway through the day, and the floor drops from under his feet. 

He’s in the middle of class, he can’t just get up and leave, so he sits there, rigid in his seat, for the remainder of the hour, and then uses his lunch break to sprint home, choke the pill down and then run back. He barely has enough time to eat an apple and half of a sandwich in two bites before he has to head to his next class, where he sits, focusing more energy on his own body than the lesson. It’s stupid, he knows it’s stupid. He’s supposed to take the pills at the same time every morning but it doesn’t matter all that much that this one was late. 

If he hadn’t taken it at all his scent would have started to normalise by the time he woke up tomorrow morning and if he’d missed a second dose his heat would trigger, which was the general tactic he used to trigger his two heats a year, six months apart. He was due one in about two weeks, so it wouldn’t have made all that much of a difference even if he had skipped a second dose, it would have just brought his plans forward a bit. It would have been annoying but not world ending, so it makes no sense that his heart is still in his throat from the rush of fear that had followed the realisation that he’d forgot his pill in the first place.

By the time he’s leaving for the bus stop his heart has found its natural rhythm again and he’s pretty sure he looks less like he’ll jump out of his skin if somebody says ‘boo,’ a little too loud, if the decrease in weird looks has anything to say about it. Eliott is already waiting and whatever tension Lucas had still been carrying in his shoulders drops off entirely as soon as he’s close enough to smell chocolate. He’s wearing his signature jacket, black jeans and a faded band tee, although Lucas doesn't recognise the name scrawled in yellow font across Eliott’s chest. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, dropping into the seat next to Eliott with a soft sigh. His fingers wants to reach out and wrap themselves around Eliott’s and so he tucks them into his own hoodie pockets to lessen the temptation. Eliott smiles down at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. There is a twinkle in his eye that dries Lucas’ mouth. 

“How was your day?” Eliott leans into him so that their arms are touching from shoulder to elbow. The connection eases something in Lucas’ chest that he hadn’t even realised was pulled taut. 

“Long.” Lucas laughs, tipping his head back and closing his eyes for a second. “Yours?”

“Slow.”

“What a great pair we make!”

“I like to think so.” They share a smile as the bus pulls up, perfectly on time, and climb abroad. It’s much more crowded than it was last time and there is only one seat right at the back. For a single heart stopping moment all Lucas can see is Eliott sitting down and pulling Lucas into his lap, but then he blinks and the image fades. He fights the urge to touch his own cheeks to feel for a blush as they shuffle into the standing section, where there are handrails on the ceiling. Lucas isn’t tall enough to comfortably reach one, so Eliott nudges him into the corner until he is wedged between the side of the bus and Eliott’s own body. Once they lock eyes its almost impossible to look away. 

The bus starts moving and Eliott presses a little closer, a head taller and as strong and steady as a pillar of rock. Lucas doesn’t even feel nervous like this, like he’d expect to. There are so many people on this bus and he doesn’t give a fuck if any of them are staring at them, or whispering. It’s a weird feeling, being free. He thinks he likes it. 

They don’t talk on the journey, not with their mouths, though their eyes and their bodies speak plenty of words into the tiny space between them. It’s eerily reminiscent of their first bus ride together, and Lucas finds he can’t even attempt to dim the smile that works its way onto his mouth, especially when Eliott’s answering smile is so soft and touchable. 

When the bus pulls up for them to get off Eliott’s hand brushes carefully against his. Eliott isn’t watching for his reaction but his shoulders tremble slightly with a shudder when Lucas nudges their knuckles together in return. They don’t hold hands but they walk close enough together that they might as well be. 

Eliott’s apartment is as warm and inviting as he remembers it to be, and it smells just as good. Eliott motions him over to the couch while he pauses in the kitchen to grab them beers. Lucas already knows he won’t be drinking more than one, it wouldn’t be worth the risk after this morning, but he doesn’t say anything, unwilling to draw attention to it when he can just sip very slowly instead. 

“So I’ve been meaning to ask,” Lucas says as Eliott lowers himself onto the sofa beside him. “Do your parents live here too? You’ve never mentioned them.”

“Technically they do, I guess,” Eliott gives a loose shrug, fingers playing with the neck of the beer bottle, drawing circles in the condensation that has gathered there. “They aren’t home very often though, we video chat a lot but they work away from home almost constantly. Their room is mostly for storage. We have a proper house in a different section of the city, so this apartment is mostly just for me since with the school transfer the commute would have been hell, but when they’re around they stay here with me generally.” 

“Oh. I guess it must be nice to have the place to yourself?” In all honestly Lucas thinks it must be a bit lonely. He has Mika, and even Manon now too. Who does Eliott have? Did Lucille stay over a lot? Eliott shifts on the couch so that his back is pressed into the arm. He crosses his legs and meets Lucas’ eyes with another little shrug. 

“It makes it easier to do things like this, that’s for sure.” He gestures with his beer towards Lucas.

“Invite friends over?” Lucas guesses, butterflies crawling up through his stomach and into his throat. 

“Sure. If you like.”  _ Sure, _ Lucas repeats in his head,  _ if you like.  _ What does that even mean. They let the silence sit between them like a third person in the room, taking small sips from their beers and swinging between avoiding each other’s eyes and staring. Lucas wonders what it must be like, to know your parents, to have them in your life but for that presence to be so… remote. He thinks of his mother, of how much he misses her, of how much he resents her. What could have changed in his life if she hadn’t been sick, or if she’d taken her medicine like she was supposed to. He wonders how Eliott feels about having this space to himself. Does he see it as lonely or does he really see it as an opportunity? He wants to ask but he doesn’t want to make Eliott feel sad if he doesn’t like to dwell on it. 

“I’m going to break up with Lucille.”

The words take a moment to register but when they do Lucas turns to mimic Eliott’s position, back against the arm of the couch, so that they’re facing each other. He isn’t sure what the expression on his face is saying, or even his scent for that matter, but the soft, knowing look Eliott sends him speaks volumes. 

“Why?” Lucas asks, voice barely a whisper.

“I think you know why.” He does. He really does. But he wants to hear Eliott say it aloud. Clearly Eliott can’t read his mind though because he doesn’t continue.  Instead he reaches over Lucas and sets his beer on the table, adjusting it so that it is sat safely on a coaster.

“C’mon,” Eliott pushes himself to his feet and Lucas scrambles to follow him, abandoning his half full beer too, biting at his bottom lip so much that he can almost feel it redden. He notes how Eliott’s gaze lingers on it for a moment as he’s pulling his shoes and coat on, but neither of them speaks again until they’ve left the apartment and Eliott is locking the door behind them.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.” They leave the building at a casual walking pace but as soon as they’re outside Eliott turns to Lucas, and presses his fingers against Lucas’ chest for a single heart thumping second. “Tag,” he murmurs. “You’re it.” And then he’s off and running, full speed down the street, using those long legs of his to his full advantage. Lucas loses a moment to pure shock, and then another to laughter before he manages to set off after him. There’s no way he can catch up, he thinks, with Eliott’s alpha stamina and speed, and of course those long fucking legs, but Eliott allows himself to slow a little so that the space between them dwindles. He makes sure to stay far enough ahead that Lucas can’t reach out and touch him though. 

When Elliot finally comes to a stop outside of a set of tall iron gates that lead to what looks like a park Lucas is breathing a little heavily. He makes a resolution to hit the gym more often so that the next time this happens he can tackle Eliott from behind instead of just chasing after him. He watches as Eliott opens the gates and ushers him through, shutting them gently after they’re both on the other side.

They walk through the darkness using only the lights on their phones and Lucas has never been more thankful for technology. He carries his phone everywhere and he can’t remember the last time he actually owned a torch, and the idea of walking through here with no light at all sends a chill down his spine that, for once, has nothing to do with Eliott. Eliott, who, somehow, has managed to produce a torch of his own. A proper one, not attached to a phone. 

Of course, technology also sucks when it comes down to battery life on phones, and so when his dies in his hands his nerves jump up by about a thousand percent. 

“Batteries dead.” They’ve paused in the middle of the path, Eliott looking back over his shoulder at Lucas and his dead phone.

“I’ll guide you.” He says, and he walks back the short distance between them to put a gentle, encouraging hand on Lucas’ shoulder. 

“You’ll guide me?”

“Yeah! Come on.” They start walking again, this time much closer than before, and Lucas can feel the heat from Eliott’s body. His scent is sharp with excitement and he’s smiling, which alone is almost enough to provide light for Lucas to see the path with. 

“Do you come here often?”

“Yeah. It’s my favourite place in the city. Do you hear how quiet it is? It’s so calm.” It is. He can hear the way the wind sings through the trees as it lifts his fringe from his face. It smells clean here, fresh and green even in the dark, and with Eliott by his side he feels even more at peace.

“Yeah,” Lucas agrees, and he can’t help the soft, sappy smile that steals control of his mouth. Eliott, happy, is a whole other being. 

“It’s a haven here.” Eliott says.  _ It’s a haven anywhere i’m with you,  _ Lucas thinks. “This is where I come when I want to be alone.” 

“You take people to where you want to be alone?” Lucas asks, a little skeptical. 

“No, but this is special. I don’t usually bring anyone here. You’re the first.” They look at each other and the space between them is sizzling with energy.

“Not even Lucille?”

“The first.”

Lucas has to bite the inside of his mouth to stop the way he feels from pouring out like a weirdly placed waterfall. He wants to look at the ground, a little embarrassed but mostly so honoured that it makes him want to cry a bit, but Eliott’s looking at him with those beautiful eyes and Lucas is helpless until Eliott breaks the connection.

“It’s here.” He shines the torch over something and Lucas turns to look. It’s a bridge. Lucas stares at it, then at Eliott, and then back at the bridge. He isn’t sure what he’s supposed to say so he says nothing. Eliott walks towards it, spinning on his heel so he’s moving backwards and facing Lucas, flashlight pointed up towards his face, shrouding his features in horror film shadows. “Come on!” He says, and as always Lucas cannot resist the gravitational pull that Eliott exudes. He hesitates enough though that Eliott deems it necessary to dart forward and grab onto his hand. Lucas only gets a moment to enjoy the feel of their warm palms pressed together before Eliott is yanking him bodily towards the underside of the bridge. 

The echo of their breathing, and their quiet laughter, is obvious under the thick stone. Lucas is nervous but he can’t tell whether it’s the dark, the abandoned area or Eliott, stood so close. Their scents mingle in the enclosed space, and the crossover breeds something that reminds Lucas of drinking hot chocolate and looking out of the window at a lightning storm while the rain is coming down so hard it almost obscures your view. 

“Here, this is my home.” Eliott shines the torch along the walls so Lucas can see some of the graffiti there. “Do you like it?”

“Thank you for showing me.”

“No, really,” Eliott laughs, light as air. “Do you like it?” He moves closer while Lucas spins around, trying to see all there is to see while Eliott watches him. They’re on another plane of existence here, so separate from everything with Eliott speaking into his ear. His mouth brushes against the skin there for a single shivering moment. “Or are you afraid?”

“Me?” Lucas laughs. “Afraid?” He spins to face Eliott, eyes shining as bright as the stars somewhere in the sky above them, out of sight. “Not afraid.”

“Not afraid?”

“Not afraid.” Lucas confirms. 

“Not even a little bit? You’re a weird guy.”

“You’re the weird one.” They continue to orbit each other, binary stars now, for Lucas can see his own light reflected back at him in Eliott’s eyes. They’re stood so close together he-

The light leaves them, accompanied by the click of the torch button as Eliott turns it off. 

“Eliott?” He sounds scared, he knows he does, but he isn’t. He  _ isn’t _ . “Where are you?” His heart is attempting to flee through his ribcage. He touches the front of his shirt as if to make sure it isn’t wet with blood from a successful escape.

The torch button clicks again and there he is, still with the stupid torch positioned under his stupid, beautiful face. It’s creepy. It’s so fucking creepy. Lucas can’t explain why he finds it so hot. Eliott is laughing. Maybe that’s why. 

“It’s not funny!” Lucas protests with a pout. 

“Yeah,” Eliott says, not sounding at all like he agrees. “Still not afraid?”

“Nope.” 

“Okay,” Eliott is grinning at him, the closer Lucas gets the more he can see his face, the line of his nose and his jaw, the soft pillow of his mouth. “I’ll stop anyway. You look scared.”

“How nice.”

The light goes off again.

“Eliott! Fuck, seriously!” He can hear the strain in his own voice. He isn’t afraid. “Okay! A little bit afraid!” Fine. He is. Whatever. Who wouldn’t be? This is remarkably serial killer-esque and if Eliott wasn’t so hot, or so magnetic, Lucas might have turned tail and ran before he’d even had chance to pull him under the bridge. Of course, don’t the stories always say that the worst criminals are the ones that can get you to trust them so easily, purely by the strength of their charm? Oh well. Lucas is in this, apparently until death does he part. He just hopes that’s later rather than sooner. 

The light is back again, and god, Eliott is so close. They’re stood so fucking close Lucas can feel Eliott’s sweet smelling breath on his face. They lock eyes. Eliott is moving closer, inch by inch, and Lucas feels every step in the pit of his stomach. Goosebumps rise across his arms and shoulders. Their mouths are literally within kissing distance. His eyes flicker from Eliott’s gaze to his mouth and Lucas can feel his lips part against his will in preparation to press against Eliott’s. It’s instinctual. 

_ Click _ . 

For fucks sake. He sighs and thunder cracks in the distance in commiseration. The heavens open outside of their little hide away and Lucas finds himself peering into the dark to try and spot Eliott’s tall figure. He can still smell him, so he’s close, but it’s more of a lingering note to the air, so he’s probably moved away at least a little bit.

“Eliott?”

There’s no response so he moves closer to the exit of the bridge, hoping the natural light of the moon will provide a little help. Eliott is stood there though, in the open, under the rain, waiting for Lucas. He’s smiling and already soaked and Lucas stares as the water runs down his face. He glances up, then down at his clothes and decides whatever is about to happen is worth it. He steps out into the open. The rain clings to him straight away, heavy in his hair and clothes.

“What? Are you afraid of the rain too?” Eliott asks, teasingly soft. Lucas runs his gaze down Eliott’s soaked front. Not afraid. Not of the rain at least.

He offers his hands because he can’t think of any other way to reach out in this moment. He mirrors the position from Polaris, Eliott’s project, which he’d found online the other week, and hopes with his entire heart that Eliott understands. He sees it now, the tunnel, the rain, the two people together. Whether he realises it or not Eliott has been playing out his project in real life, and Lucas is so fond and in awe of the way Eliott’s mind works. He wants to give him the world.

Eliott looks at his hands. The expression on his face is caught somewhere between wonder and joy and Lucas loves it like he doesn’t think he’s ever loved anything else. Except for maybe Eliott’s hands as they find his, interlocking fingers and warm, rain damp palms. Lucas shivers. Rain has crept it’s way past his neck, running over the planes of his shoulders now. He is heavy with it, like Eliott, and they are both heavy with desire. 

He isn’t sure who moves first, or maybe they both crash together at the same time, a hadron collider in the making,  but from one moment to the next they are kissing. Lucas’s hands are on Eliott’s waist, and then his shoulders and his face. His hair, wet and smooth between his fingers. Eliott’s palms are cupping his cheeks, running down over his neck. He handles Lucas like he is something precious but unbreakable and Lucas loves that Eliott isn’t afraid to touch him, to press closer and closer until there is no space left between their bodies. 

Their mouths are open and Lucas can taste Eliott and rainwater and together they taste like joy. A pause, a breath, a laugh and then they’re kissing again with such force that they both stagger a step before they can find their balance. He doesn’t ever want this moment to end. 

At one point Eliott’s wet fingers brush over the scent gland at the back of his neck and Lucas turns to absolute putty in Eliott’s hands so quickly that Eliott only just manages to get a secure hold around his waist before his knees give out entirely. He backs them into a nearby tree and leans Lucas against it so he can examine his face. Whatever he sees there makes him smile, pleased and proud, and he presses a butterfly kiss to Lucas’ cheek, to the side of his mouth and then the top of his head when Lucas dips his face down into the soft skin of Eliott’s jaw. 

“You smell so good,” Lucas murmurs into Eliott’s neck, pressing his lips to where the words land in Eliott’s collar bones. Water is collecting there from the rain and Lucas sucks sharply to gather it onto his tongue. Eliott gasps, head tipped back, and Lucas has to raise up on his tiptoes to reach and tug Eliott’s chin down so that he can press their lips together again, sharing the rain water between them.

“This moment,” Eliott breaks the kiss but speaks almost directly into his mouth and Lucas swallows every word to horde inside of him. “This exact moment is how you smell. The rain, the forest. This is what I feel whenever I’m with you.” His teeth nip at the skin of Lucas’ bottom lip, tugging until the sensation is just this side of painful. Lucas runs his hands down Eliott’s shoulders, the muscles of his forearms, until he reaches Eliott’s hands where they’re tight on his hips. He laces their fingers together there, ignoring the slightly awkward strain to his own body at the position. Eliott releases his lip and presses their foreheads together. “When I first caught your scent I was so startled, because it reminded me so heavily of this place. It was instantly equated with home. Peace. Safety.” Lucas wants to kiss him again, until there’s nothing left in the world but their lips pressed together. He ignores that Eliott really shouldn’t be able to pick out so much detail in his scent. In this moment he doesn’t care about what that could mean, or the consequences of if Eliott was to find out he was an omega. All he cares about is Eliott’s hands on his waist, and Lucas’ entwined with his. 

Reality, and all of its problems, can wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta da! 
> 
> this was a long one phew. im really tired so idk if i managed to catch all the errors in editing but its such a long chapter and my eyes cant take another read through haha. 
> 
> as ever i am so so thankful to the comments from last chapter! i was tempted to split this bad boy into two but i thought "u know what, no, gotta keep the people sweet to keep them complimenting me" haha so pat yourselves on the back if you ended up enjoying this, because you almost only got the first half :') see i can be nice! (really im just priming you all for when i break out the angst, now that canon is about to start getting happier i can take that as a hint that i need to get sadder lmao)
> 
> p.s. i hope the kissing scene worked im still not really used to writing them and i always worry that i havent managed to do as good a job as maxance and axel's smooches on screen! (tho thats likely impossible they're too good at their jobs)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He isn’t sure how much time they spend there. It’s still raining when they eventually manage to peel their mouths apart for long enough to decide that it would be silly to spend the entire night out here, especially when there is a perfectly good bed back at Lucas’ apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (SPOILERS FOR TODAYS CLIP)
> 
> happy friday!! happy lucas almost got hit by a car day!! happy eliott's tears broke my heart day!! happy im still sad day!!
> 
> no but really.... i need tomorrows clip like i need air. its a matter of life or death.

He isn’t sure how much time they spend there. It’s still raining when they eventually manage to peel their mouths apart for long enough to decide that it would be silly to spend the entire night out here, especially when there is a perfectly good bed back at Lucas’ apartment. He suggests they go to Eliott’s first, since it’s closer, but Eliott looks a little awkward. It takes a minute but he admits that he’d invited Lucille over the next morning to break up with her in person and they silently agree that it would be way past unfair if Lucas were just in the other room, waiting for her to leave.

So Lucas leads the way to the bus stop near Eliott’s building, and they wait together, sat in the cold metal seats and shivering every time the wind decides to mount a personal attack on their wet clothes. The bus driver, when she eventually pulls up next to the stop, gives them a suspicious look. Lucas supposes it isn’t often that she sees two beaming high school boys dripping wet and giggling like they’re still in nursery. 

After leaving Eliott’s secret place, gate shut firmly behind them once more, they’d avoided holding hands. Neither of them had said why but Lucas is pretty sure it was because neither wanted to run the risk of accidentally meeting Lucille in the middle of the street, looking like a couple. Now that they’re on the bus though it doesn’t really matter; they’re the only ones on at this time and so they can safely sequester themselves on the back seat. They press together from knee to hip to shoulder and Eliott holds Lucas hand carefully in his own. Their fingers fit together so well that Lucas can’t help but stare down at them in awe for an embarrassing moment, studying the way that his smaller hand is caught so gently in Eliott’s larger one. His fingers look almost dainty in comparison. Eliott squeezes his hand and Lucas glances up at him, blushing, but Eliott looks just as entranced as he does. 

Unlike both of the bus journeys they’ve shared before, this one is far from silent. They spend it with their heads bent low together, whispering even though there is no real need for it. They talk about their favourite colours, their favourite music and TV shows. Lucas tells Eliott about his friends and Eliott listens with such rapt attention that suddenly Lucas can’t wait to introduce them. Eliott talks about his favourite artists, why he loves Van Gogh and Frida Kahlo but can’t stand Picasso. This in turn leads them to talking about Eliott’s own art; why he’d started, what he loves so much about it. By the time the bus delivers them practically to Lucas’ doorstep they’ve dried off only a tiny amount, but they’re still beaming, comfort a secondary need next to this closeness.

Manon and Mika are both in their respective bedrooms and Lucas shushes a giggle-struck Eliott as they shuffle out of their shoes and sodden jackets, leaving them to hang over a free radiator and tiptoeing down the hallway to Lucas’ room. As soon as the door clicks closed behind Lucas, Eliott is pushing him backwards against it and kissing him again, deep, soul sucking kisses that coax breathless gasps from somewhere in the back of Lucas’ chest. Their outside clothes have already been seen to, but their jeans and shirts are equally as wet so it’s really only sensible that they step out of those too. 

The only clothes that were truly safe from the deluge are their underwear and so these are the only clothes that remain on. Or at least, Lucas uses that as an excuse. He doesn’t think he’s quite ready to be full on naked with Eliott yet as much as his body is showing real intense effort to convince him otherwise. 

He uses the two seconds that Eliott turns away from him to deposit his top on the floor to quickly grab the package of suppressants off of his bedside table and knock them into the half open draw, shutting it smoothly just as Eliott gives him his full attention again.

The bedroom is cold, better now that they’re not in sodden clothes, but still chilly, and Lucas can’t be bothered sneaking out in his underwear to turn up the thermostat, so he climbs onto the bed and holds the blankets up for Eliott to join him. Eliott is like a furnace, and once they’re settled together Lucas feels instantly warmer. 

They don’t jump straight into kissing, as much as Lucas aches to. They lay with their heads on the same pillow, faces inches apart, and study each other in the silence. Both wear smiles as warm as their hearts feel. 

The skin around the corners of Eliott’s eyes crinkles and shifts as his gaze flicks back and forth over Lucas’ lips and Lucas can’t resist anymore. He does a weird little shuffle over the remaining space between them, and Eliott snorts and calls him a “little snail,” but words are soon lost once more as their lips find each other, soft, a little chapped from the cold. 

Their kisses are careful at first, like in the short time since the bridge they’d forgotten the shapes of each other’s lips and they’re not fully certain how they fit together. The tempo changes though, as soon as Eliott’s hands come up to capture Lucas’ face, to press their mouths together hard enough that Lucas can feel Eliott’s teeth a second before he opens his mouth and bites at Lucas’ lip. 

They seperate again to breathe and giggle and Eliott brushes their noses together in a move so sweet that Lucas can’t help himself. He plants a kiss onto the tip of Eliott’s nose and grins as Eliott laughs, eyes crinkling adorably under Lucas’ happy gaze. Eliott is so beautiful. Even though the light from the streetlamps outside is dimmed as it creeps in through the gauzy curtains, he can still see Eliott so clearly. He’s so fucking beautiful, inside and out, and Lucas is helplessly his. They kiss again and Lucas feels himself fall deeper and deeper into the emotional ocean between them. 

Eliott pulls away and Lucas can’t help the sad noise that he makes as he tries to follow Eliott’s lips with his own. Eliott laughs quietly, and puts his big hands on Lucas’ waist so he can manoeuvre him until Lucas is on his back and Eliott is hovering over him, knees pressed to the outside of Lucas’ thighs. Eliott’s hands catch his, entwining their fingers on instinct as he presses them over Lucas’ head, into the mattress. Lucas gaps and wriggles a little in his hold. A shiver works its way down his spine until it reaches his toes and he tips his head back, watching Eliott from under half lowered lashes. 

He uses his elevated position to nudge his nose along Lucas’ jaw, sucking gently at the sharp line and then moving further down to lick at Lucas’ pulse where it is visibly beating under his skin. 

“This alright?” Eliott checks, waiting until Lucas opens eyes he never even realised he’d closed. 

“Yeah,” he swallows hard. “I’ve not… I mean. I don’t?” His mind is such a jumbled mess he can barely speak single words never mind compose sentences, but Eliott just grins at him, somehow understanding everything Lucas is trying to say.

“It’s okay.” He murmurs. “We’re not going to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Or you.” Lucas adds, shifting again and hissing out a desperate breath as Eliott leans down to kiss the skin around his nipples.

“Or me.” Eliott confirms. “Although, in all honesty, there isn’t _anything_ you could suggest that I wouldn’t want to do to you or with you.” They giggle at that, even though it isn’t really funny because Eliott is deadly serious and it sends the butterflies that live in Lucas’ stomach on a new quest to claw their way out of his body.

They kiss like this for a while, until eventually Eliott is practically a blanket over Lucas’ body, one hand stroking the soft skin over Lucas’ hip bone and the other curled around his neck to tilt his head just right as he explores the inside of Lucas’ mouth. Lucas, in the meantime, is taking advantage of their positions to map the expanse of Eliott’s back, from the shifting mountains of his shoulders to the valley of his spine and the empty oceanic craters in the dimples above where his underwear starts. He hasn’t quite gathered the courage to dip his fingers below the elastic but god it’s tempting. He’s doing his best to valiantly ignore that he can feel Eliott in a hard line against his thigh and that it is exceedingly unlikely that Eliott has failed to notice the same reaction in Lucas. There is no space between them when they’re laid like this, and it is everything that Lucas could want. 

Their mouths drift apart at some point, and by mutual unspoken agreement they settle back into the pillows, Eliott finding his place by Lucas’ side again. They’re even closer than they were when in this position the first time, noses brushing, legs entwined so thoroughly Lucas isn’t sure he would be able to pick whose was whose, if he looked. The sound of their breathing is the only noise to inhabit the air between them and their scents are so locked together at this point Lucas can barely remember what they were like when they were separate. 

He ducks his head a little and nudges into the gap under Eliott’s chin, so that his face is pressed into the warmth of Eliott’s throat where his scent is most intense. He can feel the pulse there hot against his cheek. Eliott huffs out an amused breath and brings his arms up fully, sliding one under Lucas so he’s properly cradled within Eliott’s hold, and using the other to stroke up Lucas’ side and over his shoulders, settling at the curve of his skull and massaging the base of his neck where it meets his spine.

Lucas doesn’t even try to quiet his soft moan as Eliott’s fingers brush against his scent gland again and again. He can feel how Eliott pauses, unsure, questioning, and it is all he can do to press closer. He can’t speak. Words have ceased to exist and so this is the only reassurance he can offer. It works, and Eliott’s fingers return to his gland, rubbing gently until Lucas is a shivering mess, soft and pliant in the cage of Eliott’s arms. It’s late and Lucas is tired enough that the feeling doesn’t really translate into arousal, like it had done earlier. It’s more of a sense of complete ease and contentment and it pushes Lucas slowly, carefully, beautifully over the edge of tired and right into sleep. He doesn’t even notice when he closes his eyes. 

When he wakes he is still tucked into Eliott’s chest, and Eliott’s arms are still hot brands around him. They’re both sweating slightly from the heat of their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, and Lucas takes a moment to revel in the thick scent of them. He makes a quiet, sleepy sound, nuzzling at Eliott’s collarbone and sighing softly when the arms around him tighten ever so slightly. He can tell that Eliott isn’t asleep, his breathing isn’t quite deep enough for it, and his pulse isn’t steady against Lucas’s cheek.

“Am I your first?” Eliott asks, voice intimately soft. He pulls away a little and shuffles down so they’re face to face again and he can watch Lucas’ expression as he answers.

“My first what?” Lucas still sounds half asleep. 

“Your first guy.” Lucas makes a moue with his mouth, pursing his lips in a little pout. “Well,” Eliott says quietly, making a noise of amusement at Lucas’ expression. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Lucas exhales a laugh. 

“What about you?” Eliott’s eyes dart back up to meet Lucas’ for a long moment before he raises his eyebrows once with a cheeky grin. “Ah, okay.” Eliott snorts and pulls Lucas closer, settling them back into the position they’d been in when Lucas had woken. 

“It’s still early,” Eliott kisses the top of his head. “You should go back to sleep, if you can.”

“Mmkay,” Lucas agrees with a yawn, inhaling deeply and wiggling a little to get comfy again.

The next time his eyes flutter open there’s been a slight position shift and the sun is shining in through the window. Eliott is on his back, with Lucas curled up on top of him. His mouth is damp against Eliott’s shoulder and Eliott is drawing circles into the skin of Lucas’ sides. Lucas wonders whether he got any sleep at all. He lifts his head to look up into Eliott’s face and Eliott smiles, greeting him with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Good morning,” Lucas grins.

“It is,” Eliott laughs and offers him another kiss, this time on Lucas’ mouth. They both have morning breath but neither cares. 

Lucas gives himself five minutes to bask in this, and to wake up properly and kiss Eliott again and again, before he asks a question that’s been on his mind for a while. He props himself up onto his elbows to do it, so he’s hovering slightly above Eliott with his arms on either side of Eliott’s head, one thumb pressing into Eliott’s cheek and the other buried in his hair, tugging gently.

“What did you think the first time you saw me at the meeting?” 

“I thought, ‘it’s him, for sure, he’s scared of the dark.’”

“Fuck _off_ , I’m not scared of the dark!” He smacks Eliott’s shoulder with the flat of his palm, in a weak imitation of a slap and they laugh quietly. Eliott lifts his hands to card through Lucas’ hair, scratching softly at the skin behind Lucas’ ears. He looks so soft in the morning light. “How would you react if a weird guy pulled you into a tunnel and turned off all the lights?” Eliott grins at him for a second, happy and alight from the inside, before it gentles into something quieter but just as precious. 

“The first time I saw you wasn’t at the meeting,” Eliott admits. “It was in the hall, the first day I arrived,” Lucas’s blinks down at him, eyes wide. Eliott strokes at his fringe, brushing the hair back from his face. “I didn't know anyone and I walked past you with your friends.” 

Lucas can’t believe he hadn’t felt Eliott’s presence, hadn’t even noticed any different scents that he can remember. What had he been talking about with the guys that he’d been paying so little attention? He has no idea, but he wants to go back in time and shake that Lucas so hard his brain rattles in his head.  _ Pay attention! _ He wants to shout,  _ pay attention to him! He’s going to change your whole world. Fucking pay attention.  _

“You didn’t see me.” Eliott continues, glancing down at where his hand trails over Lucas’ shoulder, before meeting his eyes again. “But I saw you.” Lucas is pretty sure his entire face is as soft as a marshmallow. He feels seen. He’s felt seen ever since he first caught Eliott’s eyes back in that first meeting, he just hadn’t realised that it had stretched back for even longer than that. It feels weird, a tingle at the base of his heart, a slow warmth that spreads slowly like golden syrup on pancakes. “I only saw you, actually.” 

Lucas kisses him. He can’t help it. He wants to continue this talk, to tell Eliott all the thoughts that have haunted him since they first met. He needs Eliott to know the depths of which Lucas feels for him, even though it’s only been a few weeks and half of that time has been spent convinced that Eliott won’t want him. He wants to say all of this and more, but his mouth has other ideas, the majority of which revolve around getting to know Eliott’s mouth more intimately. 

They end up, somehow, with Lucas on his stomach, Eliott kissing his way down Lucas’ back and then up again until he reaches Lucas’ scent gland, which he drowns in affection, almost smug at Lucas’ helpless gasps. He feels Eliott pull away, run a curious finger over the gland, and then settle against his back, cheek to shoulder, his nose only inches away from Lucas’ tender neck. Lucas inhales deeply, trying to focus his mind and struggling to string enough words together for a sentence. 

“What would you have done if I didn’t come to the meeting?” He finally manages to ask. “Or if I took the bus earlier, or later? Maybe we would never have met.”

Eliott presses his cheek harder into Lucas’ skin, fingers drawing nonsense shapes onto his back. “It’s scary to think about.”

“But it worked out in the end.” 

“You know, when I have a choice to make I always tell myself that there are two paths to take.” Eliott tells him, and Lucas revels in the feel of his breath against Lucas’ back. “I end up taking one because I have to make a choice at the time but I will never know what I missed by not taking the other option. It plays on my mind sometimes.”

“And now? Do you feel like you chose the right path?”

“Yes, of course I do.” Eliott’s tone suggests that Lucas would be an idiot to think otherwise. 

“When I have a choice to make,” Lucas murmurs. “I tell myself that there are other versions of me, in other parallel universes, who took the other path. So between all the Lucases of all the universes we’ve tried everything.” He can feel practically feel Eliott’s eyes burning holes into his skin, his attention is so strongly focused on Lucas. 

“What are all the other Lucases doing right now?”

“Right now?”

“Mmm.”

“There is a very muscular Lucas who is surfing on a huge wave in Bali.”

“Okay.” Eliott snorts.

“Another one is in a skyscraper in New York city, signing a million-euro contract, with some very upset Russians.”

“How do you know that your Lucas businessman isn’t at the top of the building, ready to jump into the void? Like a huge burn out?”

“But that’s awful!” Lucas snorts and shoves backwards at Eliott’s shoulder with his own, before settling back down, still so comfortable under his Eliott blanket. “You never think about it?”

“I don’t really believe in that stuff.”

“You’re wrong.” Lucas says. He believes it with his entire heart, his whole being. There is a resonance in the air between them that echoes through space and time so strongly that sometimes, when Lucas closes his eyes and focuses hard, it feels as though he can see through the material that parts the universes. “You’re wrong, because there are so many other Lucases and Eliotts who are together now, just like we are here in this moment.” He knows it. He  _ feels  _ it.

Eliott considers this. Whether he agrees or not, he doesn’t say, but he does press another kiss into Lucas spine. 

“I would have found you,” he says quietly.

“Huh?” Lucas glances back over his shoulder to meet Eliott’s gaze where it is waiting for him, heavy with its intensity. 

“You asked what would have happened if I’d never met you at the bus stop, or if you hadn’t been in the meeting,” Eliott taps a single finger against Lucas’s neck, right next to the scent gland. “I’d have found you. I don’t think I would have had a real choice in that. We were meant to know each other.” Lucas swallows in an attempt to dislodge his heart, where it has crawled up his throat. 

He goes to speak again but they’re interrupted by the buzz of a phone and the mood is broken. Eliott groans, pushing himself up so he can reach over to where he’d left it charging the night before. 

“Lucille?”

“Yeah. Asking if we’re meeting up still.” 

Lucas is silent. 

“You know what?” Eliott chucks the phone to the side and Lucas can’t help but smile when Eliott turns his attention back to him, where it belongs. He belly flops back onto Lucas with a content little sigh, laughing when Lucas makes a noise of complaint and wriggles underneath him. “Eliott number 452 has to go talk to her. Me, though? I’m staying here.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

“Well Lucas number 1 is very happy with this decision.” Eliott laughs and rubs his cheek against Lucas’ back like a cat. 

Lucas’ heart is beating so hard in this chest. All he can think about is the power of choice. This is the moment Eliott is making his choice and it is Lucas. Not last night, when Lucille wasn’t in the picture, but now, where Lucille is trying to contact him and Eliott is choosing to lay with Lucas rather than reply. 

He shouldn’t feel as smug as this, it probably means he isn’t a nice person, but he can’t bring himself to care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhhh can u smell the angst?? no?? well that might be bc it isn't in this chapter! and maybe! maybe not even tomorrows! but if you can hear the jaws theme in the back of your head theres a reason for that :D
> 
> this is more of a flesh-canon-out kinda chapter bc the original scene is just so beautiful i really had to include it, so a lot of the conversation, as im sure we're all aware, is from that clip, with some additions and slight changes to make it flow better and fit into this au. also while the filming of the clip is a literal work of art it was more difficult than expected to translate it into words, so i hope i did okay with it, if i ruin this clip for anyone im going to go live in the woods in shame.
> 
> as ever i am so grateful for your support on this fic! your comments continue to mean the world to me and inspire me to write more <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He must have fallen asleep again at some point because he opens his eyes and the light shining through the curtains is stronger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ENJOY!! and happy saturday! i bet we all feel a bit better now that yesterday is over huh? although im still in need of a cuddle, @skam france. wheres my second clip???
> 
> and also, if you've enjoyed this chapter at all please send many telepathic happy birthdays to my wonderful friend tina, without whom this would never have been written, never mind posted on a03. i love you tina!

He must have fallen asleep again at some point because he opens his eyes and the light shining through the curtains is stronger. More importantly, he is alone in bed. Eliott and the clothes he’d left on Lucas’ floor last night, are nowhere to be seen. He stretches his arms over his head and wonders if maybe Eliott just nipped to the bathroom, but when he touches it the space next to him is cold. It’s only when he pushes himself up onto his elbows that he sees the little note left on the pillow Eliott had been occupying only hours before. 

He picks it up with careful fingers. There is a sad little hedgehog on the outside of the folded flap, alone in bed, and when he opens it up the same hedgehog is laid next to a raccoon, both of them smiling with their little animal faces. It reads ‘Eliott #3546 is a fucking lucky guy. You’re pretty when you sleep.’ He frowns, folding it back up and pressing it into his chest. Well then. 

When he finally drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen, pill in hand, he regrets it immediately. Manon is at the stove, whisking something ready to pour into cupcake moulds and Mika is sat at the table with a cup of coffee. They both turn to look at him in sync, like creepy roommate androids. 

“What is all this?” He picks a cup off of the side and gestures in general to the state of the kitchen before pouring himself some coffee. It’s a mess. There are multiple cupboards open, utensils strewn all over the counters and broken egg shells on the side. While they’re following his gestures with their eyes he quickly pops the suppressant into his mouth and swallows with a gulp of coffee.

“It’s my way of saying thank you!” Manon grins at him over her bowl. “I was up pretty early so I figured why not. All you guys seem to eat is rubbish, so some home cooking will do you good!” Lucas has a flashback to his weekend of pringle sandwiches and decides she’s probably right. He allows himself to relax a little more; she doesn’t seem to be holding a grudge from the other day but he still needs to find time to apologise properly. “We met your friend on his way out, by the way.”

Lucas freezes. Whoops. “Ah. Yeah. He drank too much last night so I offered him the floor in my room. Figured it would be safer than letting him walk home.” That’s a feasible excuse, right? 

“Mm,” Manon nods in agreement, smiling like she knows all of his secrets. The coffee curdles in his stomach. “Eliott, right?” Lucas dips his chin once, tracing the rim of his mug with an idle finger. “He seems really nice. Nice enough to offer the sofa to at least. Surely it would have been better than the floor?”  _ Ah. _ Lucas: 0, Manon: 1. 

“He’s a good friend,” Lucas scans the inside of his brain for an excuse. “He kind of passed out on the floor and, well, you’ve seen him. I didn’t have the muscles or the willpower to drag him all the way out here to the sofa.” He chugs the rest of his coffee so he has an excuse to turn away and pour more.

When he looks back over his shoulder Mika is watching him with eyes that are far too knowing for anyone’s good, least of all his. Who exactly did he hurt, in this life or a past one, to deserve two roommates as nosy and frustrating as these?

“Fair enough,” Manon accepts his answer too easily, beaming at him. “I’m going to meet up with Emma for lunch, you wanna join?” Hmm… does he want to spend his afternoon with a  _ third _ person who will take any chance to interrogate him should Manon give even the slightest hint that he’s hiding something?

“Oh.” Lucas drums his fingertips on the counter top. “No, thanks, I have a tonne of homework.”

“Another time, then.” She shoves one last batch of muffins into the oven and props her hands on her hips. “Right. Mika, these need to be out in like ten to fifteen minutes, I’m going to go get ready.”

“Yes, mam,” Mika quips, but obediently sets the timer on his phone. When Manon’s door closes softly behind her Mika abandons his coffee and his phone on the table and meanders over to where Lucas is still leaning against the sink. “Rough night?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Lucas jokes, but when Mika doesn’t even crack a smile he nudges their shoulders together. “No. It wasn’t rough at all.” The crux of the issue he’s facing here is how much does Mika already know and how much is Lucas willing to tell him. At the end of the day though, Mika has been there for him when no one else was willing or able to step forward, and Lucas doesn’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that he owes Mika his life. Possibly twice over. “I like him.” He murmurs.

“And the grass is green,” Mika sing-songs in a painfully high pitched tone, but at least he’s smiling now. “Water is wet.”

“Water is very wet.” Lucas agrees with a fond grin, remembering the rain and the damp bus ride. 

“There’s a story there,” Mika wiggles his eyebrows and they share a knowing smile. “But it can wait. Serious talk now, okay?” Lucas nods, earnest faced. He’d known this was coming but he should have prepared flashcards. When it comes to speaking about Eliott Lucas thinks he might forget to do the actual talking part and instead just mentally reminisce about the colour of his eyes. It might be a problem. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with this guy, and from the very brief meeting this morning he seems decent.” Eliott is more than decent. Eliott is perfect. But maybe this isn’t the right forum to announce that. “And, honestly, I’m really happy for you. But you’re still keeping secrets, if that pill you think I didn’t see you swallow has anything to say about it. Wanna talk about that?”  _ Shit.  _

He panics. He very much does  _ not _ want to talk about that. He needs a distraction. “Last night he said he’s going to break up with his girlfriend?” He tries to say it as a statement but the way his words curl up at the end makes it come off as more of a question. The topic change isn’t subtle by any means, but it works, which is the important thing. Mika inhales slowly and closes his eyes. When he looks at Lucas again there is something about his face that is so, so sad. Lucas want to hug him. 

“Tell me everything that’s happened since we last talked.”

So Lucas does. He tells Mika about how they made plans to paint the mural at school but Eliott never showed up, how he’d invited Lucas over to his house for a few beers and some music to make up for it. He doesn’t give many details about their first kiss, glossing over it to stop the skin on his face from burning off in a blush hot enough to rival the sun, but he does mention that Eliott seems able to pick out Lucas’ scent far easier than anyone else Lucas has ever known. And finally he tells Mika a little bit about last night, that Eliott had been so gentle with him, that they hadn’t had sex but they’d still been so incredibly intimate that it made his heart ache with tenderness. 

Mika is silent through all of this, watching Lucas with unreadable eyes and a tight expression. He smells like coffee that’s been boiled for just a little too long and then drank down without sugar or milk. 

“Okay.” Mika says finally, after Lucas appears to have run out of words. “Alright.” The kitchen thrums with tension, broken suddenly by the hysteric beeping of Mika’s phone. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he hisses. For his own part Lucas is so startled that he almost drops the remains of his coffee and mug on the floor, catching himself at the last minute and losing only a dribble. Mika takes the muffins out of the oven wearing frilly mitts that in no way match the scowl on his face. When he’s finished half throwing them onto a free worktop he turns back to Lucas.

“Right. I’m going to say something now and I don’t want you to get mad at me, okay?”

“No promises,” Lucas narrows his eyes, wary.

“A lot of boys say they’re going to break up with their girlfriends. Most of them don’t follow through.” Lucas tries to object but Mika holds up a hand imploringly. “I’m not saying that Eliott is one of these men. I’m not. I’m just trying to… to make you aware that not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve like you do.”

“I do not!” Lucas glares at him, standing up straighter in defiance. “I have so many secrets!”

Mika huffs, lips curling at the corners. “Sure you do kitten, but not with me. And not with the people who know you best. You said Yann is bugging you about keeping secrets?” Lucas dips his chin with a frown. “Well, this is why. He knows you so well, well enough to be able to tell when something is eating you up from the inside. When you’re unguarded with people you’re so open Lucas, and you smile so often! I’ve been spending this entire past year trying to get that to be commonplace and honestly, I think you’re getting there. I’d just hate to see one person be the cause of a set back.”

Lucas considers this in moody silence. 

“Did you speak to him this morning? Before he left?”

“No, but he left me a note.” He takes it out of his sweatpants pocket, hesitating for only a moment before unfolding it and showing it to Mika. Mika reads the situation correctly and doesn't try to take it, just studies it from a distance so that his scent doesn’t rub off like a grease stain on the white paper. Something eases in his shoulders and the set of his mouth and Lucas unconsciously responds, his own stance softening. “Last night, before we came back here, he said that he had plans to meet up with Lucille today, to break it off with her. I’m guessing that’s where he went?” Lucas adds.

“Yeah.” Mika finally looks away from the note and meets Lucas’ gaze. “Yeah I think you’re right.”

“You do?”

“I really do.” Mika laughs, half incredulous and half stunned, and nods at the paper like this little drawing is some weird turn of events he never could have anticipated. “Forget everything I just said.”

“It’s just a note?” Lucas stares at him, perplexed. 

“No it isn’t.”

“It isn’t?”

“Smell it.”

Lucas does. “And? It smells of Eliott, but he drew it, so..?”

“Lucas. Kitten. It smells like he rubbed it all over his fucking scent gland and left it on the pillow next to your fucking head so that his scent would stay with you as you slept and be right there when you woke up. Which, considering he spent the night in your bed and you absolutely fucking reek of each other, is so over the top I don’t think it can be anything other than genuine. I knew the look he gave me this morning was all kinds of territorial, but damn.”

Lucas’ blush could power a city. He clutches the note to his racing heart. In the back of his mind he wonders if this is why Manon had been so suspicious, because of how strongly Eliott had smelled like Lucas and vice versa. 

Mika rolls his eyes. “You’re too fucking cute,  _ god. _ You’re perfect for each other, aren’t you?” Lucas doesn’t verbally reply but every cell in his body is screaming ‘yes.’ “Alright, well. What are you going to do then?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s breaking up with his girlfriend and i’m sure I don’t need to remind you, you’re due a heat soon. Like, what? Two weeks?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Do you not see where i’m going with this?”

Lucas is not, in fact, blind, nor wilfully ignorant. Mika couldn’t be making his point any more clear if he were standing on the turret of a castle waving a huge flag with the words ‘tell him!!!’ embossed in gold font. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I think i’m going to. This next week even, Monday, if I can get him alone. I don’t think I can avoid it for much longer anyway, especially if this is anything, you know,” he flushes. “Long term.”

“Really?” Mika sounds so utterly delighted. “Really, really?”

“Really,” Lucas confirms. “It makes sense. And I’m pretty sure he already knows something isn’t right anyway, but yeah. I trust him.”

“I’m so proud of you!” Mika shrieks and throws his arms around Lucas’, canon balling himself halfway across the kitchen to do so as Manon opens her door and peeks out into the chaos.

“Everything alright out here?”

“Everything is great,” Mika informs her. “Lucas just agreed to help you box up all this stuff to take some of it to school tomorrow so I don’t have to ruin my diet completely! Isn’t he thoughtful?”

Manon laughs and vanishes again, reappearing a moment later with her bag and coat. “Thank you so much, Lucas. I have to run so if you could get started now and we’ll finish up later with the stuff that hasn’t cooled yet?”

Lucas pinches Mika in the side, hard. “Sure.” He says through gritted teeth. “My pleasure.”

Manon leaves and Lucas forces Mika to help with his Tupperware and baked goods mission, since it’s Mika’s fault in the first place.

Later, when Lucas is sitting alone in his room again, nibbling on a muffin in his computer chair, he takes the little sketch out of his pocket and places it on the desk in front of him. How Eliott will handle Lucas’ secret is anyone’s guess, but for once in his life Lucas wants to tell someone and actually has hope that that someone will support him. It’s a lot, it feels a lot, kind of overwhelming, but last night with Eliott, under the bridge, under the stars and then under the covers in his bed, it had felt like anything was possible, including living his life as an omega with an alpha boyfriend. Eliott isn’t his father, and Lucas is starting to accept that he isn’t his mother.

He touches the picture, gently pressing the fold lines flatter. 

He has a feeling that everything is going to be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd love to hear what you thought! as ever i am endebted to my commenters haha. i got to the point where i was literally about to post this and then decided to change something last minute so i hope it all still flows well! im too tired to read it again haha
> 
> p.s. did you enjoy that last line hmm? did you? i hope so... >:D *jaws music intensifies*


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He doesn’t hear anything from Eliott on Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

He doesn’t hear anything from Eliott on Monday. He spends the entire day on edge. Eliott is, by this point, notorious in his mind for being shit at communication; last Wednesday had cemented that. But Lucas is worried. How did the break up go? Did he go through with it? By Tuesday he is desperate enough for the smallest bit of information that he waits outside of the class Eliott is supposed to be in, until Alex comes out. When Alex tells him that Eliott had freaked out at something and practically stopped showing up altogether Lucas isn’t sure what to think, but he feels uneasy, like there’s something niggling at the back of his brain but he can’t put his finger on it. 

He runs into Arthur, Yann and Basile in the hallway and realises with a dizzying lurch that in all the worry about telling Eliott the truth and worrying about his whereabouts since then, he forgot all about Basile’s birthday. Basile doesn’t _seem_ to mind too much, but it makes Lucas feel like the worst friend on the planet. He never wanted to be one of those people who, as soon as they get into a relationship, abandon their friends. He makes up an excuse as to why he wasn’t there, says Mika was having relationship problems and needed a shoulder to cry on, but he can tell that Yann doesn’t buy it. Lucas isn’t surprised, he probably smells more like Eliott than Mika still at this point. 

They leave him there with his lies and his heavy heart and as he turns to watch them walk away he decides something has to change soon. After he’s told Eliott maybe. When they’ve sorted out everything between them maybe he can introduce Eliott to the guys as his boyfriend. If he has someone to be out of the closet with then maybe it’ll be easier? He’ll have to decide how much to tell them though. That he’s gay, almost definitely. That he’s an omega, though? Or that his mother is in a care facility and that’s the reason why he’s living with Mika? The thought sends a weird shiver through his body and he can’t tell if it’s terror or anticipation, but either way he shoves it down. He has other things to focus on. 

 

On Wednesday Lucas is in class, sat next to Imane and working on his latency phase when Eliott finally messages him.

**Eliott**

_ Look outside. _

Lucas looks up towards the window. Eliott is stood there grinning at him. His phone buzzes again.

**Eliott**

_ Come outside. _

He leaves his work half finished, citing ‘minimalism,’ when Imane tries to stop him. His heart is beating so fast in his chest just at the idea of seeing Eliott, but when he steps out of the classroom and is met with a cloud of vanilla and chocolate every muscle in his body relaxes a little. He inhales and smiles. 

Eliott kisses him when he’s close enough and Lucas can’t help the initial, instinctual flinch, quickly glancing around to see if anyone noticed. Eliott doesn't seem to let it bother him, just continues smiling at Lucas like Lucas hung the moon. 

“Let’s go!” Eliott reaches for his hand to start pulling him along but Lucas resists.

“I have two more classes left, I can’t just leave!”

“I broke up with Lucille.”

Lucas looks up at him, eyes wide. Oh. It’s only in this moment that Lucas realises he was never actually sure that Eliott would go through with it. 

“You don’t look as happy as I expected,” Eliott’s smile dims a little as he studies Lucas.

“I am happy, I promise.” Lucas says. And he is. God. He doesn’t remember ever feeling this hopeful about  _ anything.  _ “I just don’t want you to feel sad because of me.” A five year relationship is a big thing to break for a boy you’ve only know since the start of the new school year. He knows that Eliott loves Lucille, even if he isn’t in love with her anymore, and it’s hard to let down the people you love. Lucas should know, he’s had a lifetime's worth of experience of it on both sides. 

“I’m not sad!” Eliott’s grin brightens again and he leans forward to press their foreheads together. Lucas has to close his eyes for a moment at the skin to skin contact, enjoying it way too much for the middle of a schoolyard. “Do you think you’d tell your parents about us?”

“My parents.” Lucas opens his eyes again as Eliott pulls back to examine him. Fuck. Alright. Now or never? “There’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about. It’s kind of private though.”

Eliott’s brow furrows and he steps even closer, a move Lucas would have doubted possible just a second ago. “Is everything okay? You said you didn’t want to skip your classes.”

“I hope so.” Lucas draws his bottom lip into his mouth absentmindedly and nibbles at it. His fingers tighten on the straps of his backpack, partially because he feels like he needs to hold onto something solid and partially because if he doesn’t, that solid thing will be Eliott. And holding onto Eliott would probably lead to kissing Eliott and he needs his mind as focused as possible right now. He doesn’t want to lose his nerve. “Just don’t really want anyone to overhear. And there’s still about half an hour until my next one. It should be enough time.”

“Okay,” Eliott agrees and glances around as if just realising that they’re out in the open and that there are eyes and ears everywhere. “The foyer should be empty at this time, I passed it on my way here and the door was open. I couldn’t see anyone.”

“Okay.” Lucas is panicking already. He could still change his mind, make up a bullshit excuse. Eliott would see straight through it and Lucas will have ruined this before it even had chance to start but his secrets would be safe.  _ No. _ He’s tired of living with this weight, carrying it alone every day. “Okay.” He repeats, with a little more force, and Eliott quirks an eyebrow at him, smiling his beautiful half-smile when Lucas blushes and glances away.

The walk is quiet, for the most part. Lucas aches to reach out and take Eliott’s hand, but he resists so hard he starts to sweat. How is he supposed to do this? Does he build up to it or just say it? His mind races through multiple versions of this moment, different universes, some where it goes well, some where it doesn’t. 

The foyer is abandoned, like Eliott thought it would be. He ushers Eliott into a seat and paces the stretch of floor in front of him. Eliott watches the whole time, eyes locked on the lines that Lucas carves into the room around them. It’s a whole three minutes later that Lucas finally gathers the courage to speak, by which point the pacing has made him dizzy.

“I’m an omega.”

Oh fuck. Fuck. Oh god. Alright, that wasn’t too bad. No wait. Shit. Yes it was. 

_ He can’t breathe _ .

There’s a gap in time between the confession leaving his mouth and Eliott reaching him. The world narrows to a pinprick. He isn’t sure how it happens, but the next thing he’s aware of he’s sat on the floor between Eliott’s knees, enveloped in vanilla. Eliott has his back pressed to the wall and Lucas is leaning forward into him, face pressed into Eliott’s chest. His arms are wrapped around Lucas, one hand pressed into the back of his head and the other in the space between his shoulder blades

“What the fuck,” he whispers into the cloth of Eliott’s tee shirt and Eliott snorts, though it sounds more scared than amused. Lucas pulls back, still within the circle of Eliott’s arms, to look up at him. “What happened?” His chest feels weird, tight, almost like he’s pulled a muscle but not quite. 

“You had some kind of anxiety attack, I think.” Eliott lifts a hand to trail his fingertips over Lucas’ cheek. The other is still on his back, and his thumb rubs circles against the material of Lucas’ hoodie. “It was fucking scary. You just stopped breathing and you didn’t start again until you were pressed right up against me.”

“How did you know what to do?” Lucas wiggles around a little to get more comfy. He ends up with his palms loosely resting on Eliott’s chest, with Eliott’s thighs pressed against his hips to steady him. 

“I didn’t,” Eliott admits with a wry twist of his lips. “It was instinct. Something told me that my scent might help.”

“It did.”

“Clearly.” Eliott reaches over, almost dislodging Lucas from his comfy position, and grabs for the strap of his bag where it lay discarded on the floor. He drags it towards them and rummages until he finds a half full bottle of water and a granola bar. He stares Lucas down until he eats the bar for the rush of sugar and washes it down with the water.

They study each other in silence. 

“Well?” Lucas finally sighs, awkwardly licking bits of nut and chocolate from the corners of his mouth. His heart still doesn’t feel like it’s beating a normal rhythm, but that might have something to do with Eliott’s proximity. This whole thing has been dramatic and also weirdly anticlimactic at the same time. “Aren’t you going to say something?”

“What do you want me to say?” Eliott brushes Lucas’ fringe back from his face, then cups his cheek with a warm palm. “Are you feeling better?”

“I don’t know! That you’re shocked maybe, or that you suspected it? That you’re mad at me? That you forgive me?” His voice sounds so incredibly small by the end of it. “And yeah, I guess.” He adds on, a little sulkily. 

“Baby,” Eliott presses a kiss against his temple, then draws back to try to examine his face, cupping his jaw between his palms. Lucas is still stuck on the pet name though, and his brain has ceased to function.  _ Baby. _ Yeah. Alright. He can dig that. “I can’t say i’m really surprised because I would be lying. I knew you didn’t quite add up. Your scent, your reaction when I touched your gland… it just didn’t seem to match with you being a beta, but everyone I asked insisted you were, and back at the party you said you weren’t an omega so I let it go. It isn’t important to me and you didn’t seem comfortable talking about it. I figured anything I needed to know you’d get around to telling me, if I was lucky enough to get to keep you. But yeah, a lot of things make sense now. And god, I could never be mad at you for this. Are you kidding me? It isn’t even a question of forgiving you. In fact, i’m thanking you.”

“You’re… thanking me?”

“For trusting me. Clearly you’ve been worrying about this, so I imagine not many people know, for whatever reason that is, it means a lot that you’ve chosen to tell me. If you feel comfortable explaining why it’s a secret, I’m here, but don’t feel like you have to rush.”

Lucas is a puddle on the floor. He sniffles a little, then feels embarrassed and tries to hide his face in Eliott’s chest.

“Baby,” fuck, there it is again. For someone who isn’t mad at him Eliott is certainly attempting full on murder via pet names. He hugs Lucas close for a minute before pressing gently on his shoulders so he can get a look at Lucas’ face. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“It’s just weird, I guess. For you to know. I’ve thought about telling you from the beginning but I never actually believed it would happen,” Lucas scrunches his nose up, deciding to leave out explaining the somersaults his brain performs every time Eliott calls him ‘baby.’ “The suppressants I’m on work really well to hide things, but you’ve always had more of an, I don’t know, awareness, I guess, of my scent than should be possible. It’s supposed to be muted.”

“Suppressants?” Eliott frowns. “You’re taking drugs?”

“Legal drugs!” Lucas protests. “Like aspirin. You didn’t guess? My scent-”

“Lucas, they’re very much not like aspirin. Where are you even getting them from? I can’t believe your parents are supporting this!” Eliott looks properly worried now and it gnaws at Lucas’ heart, a little shadow creature with sharp teeth, wedged between his rib bones. “You’re only seventeen, baby, you shouldn’t be taking hormone altering drugs. It’s not good for you. And I have no idea what you mean, nothing about your scent is muted, it never has been, for me. I could pick you out of a crowd of a thousand people.”

“Listen,” Lucas glares at him, mentally shelving the comment about his scent for now. “I know you’re trying to help, but you’ve only just found out about this. I’ve been dealing with it on my own since I was fourteen. I know what i’m doing.”

Eliott stares at him, pale and frozen. They’re still so close together that as soon as Eliott’s scent starts to change Lucas catches it in a heartbeat.

“Why are you scared?”

“”Why have you been on them since you were  _ fourteen fucking years old _ ?”

They stare at each other in stalemate. It isn’t long until Lucas cracks though, weak to Eliott’s gaze as always.

“That’s the other part of the story,” Eliott waits in silence as Lucas fidgets, pulling his sleeves over his hands and playing with the material. “My mother is an omega.” He inhales raggedly and closes his eyes. He doesn’t want to look at Eliott as he says this next bit. “I haven’t seen her since I was thirteen. She’s crazy.”

“Crazy.” The word is flat. A question spoken as a statement.

“Mm,” he still hasn’t opened his eyes. “She… I don’t know. I never really got the full medical read out, but she thought it was the end of the world. She thought god had sent her as a messenger. My dad left when she refused to take any kind of medication, and so it was just me and her for a little while. She never got violent but sometimes she’d throw things at the walls. I guess the neighbours could hear her and they called child protective services. Once they realised how bad the situation was they took her away. I was put with a foster family. Then a year later I presented and I just. Couldn’t deal. I didn’t want to be like her. I didn’t want to be seen as weak.” A tear drags a wet line down his cheek and Eliott’s thumb brushes it away, gentle as a snowflake. “They threw me out eventually though. I didn’t fit right. But my social services agent didn’t have anywhere else to put me so I called Mika and begged him to let me stay there.”

“How did you even get hold of the pills without adult supervision.” Lucas opens his eyes and just looks at Eliott, unwilling to say it. It doesn’t matter though because Eliott isn’t stupid. “Oh _ fuck _ . You have a drug dealer. Oh my god, you  _ idiot _ .” Lucas winces. Yeah, he thought that might have been the reaction. He hadn’t quite guessed at how much it would hurt though. “And  _ Mika _ is okay with this?”

“I mean, it’s  _ my _ body. It doesn’t matter what Mika thinks, but for the record no, he doesn’t like it. He thinks it’s bad for me psychologically.”

“Yeah, well I guess that’s one area on which we can agree.” Eliott runs a slightly shaky hand through his already messy hair. “Fuck. You need to see a doctor.”

Lucas has wrenched himself out of Eliott’s reach before he even registers what’s happened, crawling backwards until he collides with a table leg. 

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches for him.

“Don’t touch me.” Lucas snarls. “I tell you my biggest secrets, literally bare my soul to you about my past and my fucking  _ mother  _ and your first reaction is to make me see a doctor? Haven’t you listened to a word I’ve been saying?”

“Lucas,” Eliott looks at him helplessly. “Listen to me very carefully. When my sister presented I went through a whole ep-” He stops dead. He looks conflicted but Lucas doesn’t have the space in his brain to wonder why. “There was a period of time when I threw myself into research, I stayed up for like a whole weekend straight learning about stuff like this. Those drugs that you’re taking were never meant for long term consumption. There aren’t even any studies out there for omegas of your age group being on them for so long, for this exact reason. They could have done irreparable damage to your body.”

“ _ Good! _ ” Lucas shouts, loud and vicious enough that Eliott finches backwards into the wall. “I don’t want this! I don’t want to be anything like my mother. She ruined my life, Eliott.” He doesn’t mean it but everything is so loud in his head that he can’t think clearly, all he wants to do is lash out at the world, at his mother, at Eliott, even though all Eliott wants is what’s best for him and in his core, in the abyss of his brain he  _ knows _ that.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to reach out to her?”

“She’s crazy. I  _ told _ you. I don’t need crazy people in my life.”

It is quiet enough that they would have been able to hear a pin drop. Lucas’ heart is hammering against the inside of his ribs, a monster trying to tear through the boundaries between worlds, to break free and wreak havoc upon life as they know it. The air is thick with a scent Lucas doesn’t recognise. It’s Eliott, he knows it is, but he can’t match it to any emotion Eliott has ever felt around him. Burnt vanilla syrup maybe? Like someone had bought a bottle of that stuff coffee shops add to lattes and set it on fire in the middle of a parking lot. And then danced around it screaming insults at the sky. Naked. 

It’s a very specific scent.

“Okay.” Eliott says. He sounds so tired. Guilt churns in the pit of Lucas’ stomach and he isn’t able to stop himself from shuffling closer to Eliott, back within arms range. Eliott doesn’t try to touch him though. “Okay.”

They stare at each other. 

“You’re right,” Eliott finally says. “I won’t push you. It’s your choice.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah,” Eliott bites the inside of his cheek so hard Lucas thinks he can smell blood. He looks like he’s aged ten years in the last five minutes and yet he is as small as Lucas has ever seen him. “You’re going to be late for class.”

“Eliott-”

“It’s alright, Lucas.” Eliott pushes himself to his feet and offers his hands to Lucas, carefully helping him up too when Lucas takes them. “I need you to promise me something.” Lucas looks at him warily and Eliott gives him an odd smile, lifting his hand to brush his thumb against the skin of Lucas’ temple and dragging it down to his jaw. “Think about it, okay?”

“Think about it?”

“Think about seeing a doctor, about coming off of the suppressants. Even if you don’t believe me about the long term effects, drug dealers cut their stuff with dangerous shit. All it takes is one bad batch. I’m worried about you.”

After everything Eliott has said, Lucas is kind of worried about Lucas too. 

“I’m sorry for snapping at you.” Lucas says quietly. “I’m not used to talking about this stuff with someone who isn’t Mika.”

“You guys are close.” For once he doesn’t seem jealous. In fact, he looks weirdly… relieved? “It’s good that you aren’t alone.”

“I have you too, right?” Lucas tries to smile but it doesn't fit right on his mouth. 

“Promise me? That you’ll think about it?”

“I promise.” 

“Thank you.” The bell rings. “You better get a move on.” He nods at the door behind Lucas. “You’re going to be late.”

“We’ll talk later?”

“Sure.”

Lucas is tempted to kiss him, but the air between them still feels too fragile. In the end he reaches out and takes Eliott’s hand, squeezes it gently, and then walks away. He only looks back once. Eliott is watching Lucas go and the expression on his face leaves a bitter aftertaste on the back of Lucas' tongue. He's tempted to turn back, but when Eliott notices that he’s being watched he forces a smile and nods at the door. 

And so Lucas leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally was so eager to get this chapter posted idk if i was as thorough as i should have been in the editing stage haha. welcome to hell week though! *throws confetti* 
> 
> also the reason why this is posted so early when usually im an evening update kinda gal is that i was replying to all the super sweet comments from last chapter and i just got so excited about this one that i had to get it up as fast as possible haha, so thank you to those people!! i love you guys so much <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, what happened?”

“So, what happened?”

It’s late into the evening when Lucas lets himself into the apartment but Mika is stood, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet and he pounces as soon as Lucas has shut the door behind him. He knew there was a reason why he’d regretted his decision to text Mika on his way to his next class, to tell him that he’d found Eliott. His phone had chimed softly to tell him the message had been delivered and there had been an echoing chime of ‘oh shit,’ in the back of his head. 

He looks around for Manon but she’s nowhere to be seen, so he lets himself collapse onto the sofa with a huff, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

“Lucas?” The excitement in Mika’s tone has dimmed somewhat as he comes to perch on the sofa arm next to Lucas. “Did you tell him?”

“Yeah,” Lucas sighs. “It didn’t go great. I thought, I mean, it kind of seemed at first that he was fine with it but when I mentioned the suppressants he blew up at me a bit.”

“I like him a little more already.”

Lucas throws him a withering glare and folds his arms over his chest defiantly. Mika rolls his eyes.

“So come on, tell me.” He badgers, leaning over to poke him in the shoulder repeatedly until Lucas shoves him off the sofa arm. It shocks a yelp out of Mika, and a loud snort of laughter from Lucas. He shuffles over to glance down at where Mika is sprawled in a heap on the floor and grins, satisfied.  “Dick move!” Mika protests.

“Yeah, well.” He watches as Mika rearranges his limbs into something resembling the right order, and when Mika is finally back on the couch with him he gives him a quick rundown of how the afternoon chat with Eliott had gone. “So,” he finishes with. “I’m not really sure where his head is at.” 

“Well, it sounds like he’s more than okay with the whole omega thing,” Mika ruffles his hair. “Everything is gonna be fine, you’ll see. You’ll keep your promise and put some serious thought into coming off of the pills for good and you guys can talk stuff through somewhere a bit more comfortable so you’re not worried about running off to your next class.”

“I guess.”

“Did he say whether he’d broken up with his girlfriend?”

“Yeah, he has. He seemed fine about it too.”

“And did you mention that your heat is due?”

“No!” Lucas flushes. “I don’t think we’re quite at that point yet. I mean, close maybe, but. He’s only just found out the truth and that didn’t exactly go smoothly. I’m just going to lock myself in my room like usual.” 

“Have you decided on a day yet?”

Lucas shakes his head. His mind has been too busy recently and as much as he knows that he needs to make a decision, he keeps putting it off. 

“Okay, well keep me updated, yeah?” Mika pats his shoulder as he gets up to head back to whatever he’d been doing before Lucas came home. “And Lucas, think about telling Manon too. She’ll know as soon as it starts so you might as well get it over with now.”

God  _ damn _ , he’d forgotten about that. 

Really though, after saying it aloud to Eliott this will almost be easy.

He fixes himself a ham salad sandwich and eats it on the sofa without bothering to turn the TV on. He’s just swallowing the last bite when a key turns in the lock and the door opens to reveal Manon weighed down by about ten shopping bags. Lucas rushes to give her a hand and she rewards him with a grateful smile. 

Most of the bags contain groceries, so he helps her put them away while he’s already up, and she chatters away at him as they work. When the last packet of pasta has been hastily shoved into the only remaining space in the cupboard he turns to find her already watching him.

“So,” he clears his throat. “I just wanted to say sorry again, for the other day. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I know you’re only trying to be my friend and I’ve been pretty shitty since you got back. I want you to know it’s nothing to do with you being here, things are just complicated for me at the minute.”

“Do you want to talk-”

“Yeah.” He gnaws on his bottom lip. “Sorry. I just… I’m nervous.”

“That’s okay,” she tells him. She glows in the low light from the lamp in the corner. “Here? Or we could move into the-”

“I’m an omega!”

She blinks at him, thrown off guard. He really needs to get a handle on this interrupting thing. At least this time his confession isn’t immediately followed by a panic attack though, so, you know.  _ Progress. _

“I just thought you should know, I mean, you know how it is. I’m due a heat soon and so I guess. I’m not sure if. I think that maybe?” Manon interrupts his nonsensical babble by catapulting herself across the kitchen like a woman possessed and wrapping herself around him in the tightest hug he has possibly ever been on the receiving end of.

“Lucas,” she whispers into his hair, tightening her grip even more. She’s fucking  _ strong _ for someone so tiny. Maybe this is what Eliott meant about not underestimating an omega’s fragility. In which case, where are his muscles? Was he absent the day they were handed out or? He must have been busy with his drug dealer. “Oh, Lucas.” She sounds so sad. “Thank you for telling me. I already knew, but thank you.”

Oh.  _ Oh _ . Well shit. He  _ had _ been right, she’d totally guessed it the other day. 

“Oh. Well. Thank you for letting me tell you in my own time. You worked it out last week, huh?”

“I figured you would eventually,” she smirks at him. “We omegas gotta stick together, you know? I got your back.” 

He beams at her, eyes welling with happy tears. 

“I feel the need to inform you though that you’re not nearly as secretive as you think. You lent me your phone ages ago and there were tabs open on a couple omega websites that i’ve used myself.”

_ Whoops. _

_ “Oh shit,”  _ he hisses. He remembers that now. He had panicked for a whole month afterwards because he’d left his internet tabs open, and yes they’d contained advice sites for omegas, but they were also the home of several gay porn websites. He’d waited for her to bring it up every time he’d seen her after that, but when she hadn’t he’d assumed she just hadn’t seen. 

“So I guess you also already know that…” Lucas hesitates and she smiles at him, nodding her head just a little, not an agreement but an encouragement to say it out loud. “You know that I’m gay?” Her small smile blossoms into a proud grin and her scent, which before had been a little like an afterthought of spring on a cold morning, is now a pollen sac bursting open, seeping warmth, sunlight and jasmine into the room. 

“I’m so proud of you.” 

They grin at each other like idiots, giddy and relieved of at least some of the burdens that had been muddying the air between them. Eventually though, Manon’s mouth tightens, the smile dropping as quick as it had been to appear. “We do need to have a talk about the suppressants though.” 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Lucas groans, pulling away from their little huddle with a roll of his eyes. “Not you too.”

“Damn right, me too.” She raises a single eyebrow at him. Lucas has never felt so judged in his life. Manon is going to be a fantastic mother, if she decides to have kids. “I’m guessing Mika already read you the riot act.

“He’s been doing that since I moved in.”

“Clearly not thoroughly enough, since that was a year ago and you’re still on those stupid pills.” She sighs. “Who else knows?”

“I told Eliott today,” Manon opens her mouth and Lucas interrupts her again. “And yes, he’s on the ‘let’s-mother-Lucas’ boat too. I swear you guys plan this stuff behind my back.”

“We don’t need to,” Manon puts her hands on her hips and glares at him. “We care about your well being, so we’re all pretty much on the same page.”

“Fine.” Lucas blows out an aggravated breath. He gives up. It was one thing when it was Mika against Lucas, but this is three on one now and he doesn’t have the energy, or frankly the will power, to keep track of his dwindling list of arguments. If he’s going to come out as an omega, and as gay, to be with Eliott as his full true self, then he might as well go see a doctor too. God knows if Alice somehow got wind of it through a different source she’d sniff him out like a bloodhound anyway. And this way he can come back with a clean bill of health and shove it in their faces with a smug ‘a _ ha _ !’

“Fine?”

“Fine. I’ll stop taking them after my next heat”

“And you’ll see a doctor?”

“And I’ll see a doctor. I’ll make an appointment…”  _ Never, _ he wants to say. But he can’t ignore that ever since he talked to Eliott there’s a tiny speck of panic that is rubbing against the back of his brain. “Sometime this week I guess. Do you think I’ll be in trouble?”

“No,” Manon comes close enough to take his hand in hers. “No, of course not. They’ll understand.”

“What about Mika?”

“Don’t focus on that part, just in case. But if it comes up it comes up. I can promise you that Mika would much rather you get off of these pills and get seen by a doctor than continue to lie under the excuse of protecting him.”

“Hear! Hear!” Mika shouts his agreement from his bedroom and both Manon and Luka startle, whirling around to glare at his door. He pokes his head out and smirks at them. “You guys need to learn how to talk quietly, I swear to god. The walls are so thin. It’s a good job I already know all the secrets that go on in this house.”

“Not all.” Manon denies.

“No?”

“No. For example, I bet you have no idea where I hid your expensive shitty vodka.” 

Silence. 

“You  _ didn’t! _ ” 

“I really did.” It’s Manon’s turn to smirk now, and Lucas leans back against the counter to watch the back and forth with interest, a small smile curving at his mouth and a warm ache in his heart as he observes this family he’s found for himself. “I figured out your lie. It wasn’t just a cover up on Lucas’ behalf, it’s  _ you _ who uses all the hot water, and therefore it’s  _ your _ fault that I’ve had to have two cold showers this week. Two, Mika. _ In a week _ .” She shrugs casually, folding her arms over her chest. “You’re not seeing a drop of that vodka until you learn to share.” 

“ _ Treason _ !” Mika hisses, coming a little further out of his room and crossing his arms right back at her in big, exaggerated movements so that there’s no missing the fact that he’s mocking her. “Lucas, buddy, are you going to let her get away with this?”

“Sorry Mika,” Lucas says, turning to share a conspiratorial smile with Manon. “We omegas gotta stick together.” It feels nice to claim that title, to be able to be open about what he has in common with Manon, and the beaming smile she sends him makes it all the sweeter. Mika, unable to really argue with that, goes back to his room, grumbling about vodka under his breath. Manon squeezes his shoulder once and then moves away. As he watches she begins to flit around the kitchen, pulling ingredients out of cupboards to throw together some dinner. 

Lucas gravitates towards his own room after a while, for a bit of privacy to text Eliott. He’s hopeful that Eliott will have had time to wrap his head around the new information that Lucas had given him earlier. 

**Lucas**

_ You were right. Talked to Manon, told her I’m an omega and gay. Both she and Mika agree that I need to see someone about the pills so i’ll phone tomorrow to make an emergency appointment. Will you come with me? _

**Eliott**

_ Sorry, I can’t tomorrow. I need some time. Not your fault, just think we moved too fast. _

Lucas feels his knees start to buckle. There’s a knot in his throat he can’t seem to breathe past as he lowers himself carefully onto his bed, shoulders hunched as he curls over the phone.  _ What the fuck.  _ The message glares up at him with Eliott’s words still showing for a whole minute before the sleep mechanism kicks in and the screen darkens. 

_ Sorry. _

A shudder works it’s way down his spine. He feels sick. Like someone has reached into the cavity of his chest, shoved his rib cage apart, stuck a spoon into his organs and  _ stirred. _

_ I can’t tomorrow. _

His fingers slacken on the phone and it tumbles to the floor.

_ Not your fault. _

It is though, isn’t it? It must be. Everything was fine, everything was  _ more than _ fine. Eliott broke up with Lucille for him, a five year relationship. A fucking five year relationship. For Lucas. And then Lucas had to go and tell him about the whole omega thing.  _ God.  _

Or, maybe it’s the pills? Lucas grasps for an answer that isn’t his subgender. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be with Lucas while he’s on them still? He’d been so angry when he found out. But that makes no sense. If it were the pills then he’d have jumped at the chance to make sure Lucas was off them for good.

And so by process of elimination it’s either that Lucas is an omega or…  _ oh _ . Maybe it’s because of his mother. Maybe Eliott doesn’t want to have to worry that Lucas will go crazy like she did. Lucas can’t really blame him if that’s the case. It’s plagued his mind for half of his life, why shouldn’t it occur to Eliott too? 

_ Sorry. _

Lucas curls forward, drawing his legs up so he can wrap his arms around them and bury his face in his knees. The world is watery at the edges and he thinks, for a distorted moment, that the room is underwater, but he blinks and his vision clears as the water leaks from the corners of his eyes, and he realises he’s just crying.

_Just think we moved too fast._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... happy monday?? D:
> 
> in all seriousness tho my heart feels healed from the most recent clip. they're so soft?? and? so beautiful?? god bless. 
> 
> thank you for all the comments on the last chapter!! i'm so glad that it went down well haha. I hope you guys like this one too!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He spends the next two days moping.

He spends the next two days moping. 

Eliott isn’t in school, as far as he can tell, and he puts more effort into avoiding Mika and Manon than he’s ever put into anything before, despite the fact that they both try to hound him for answers. He stays in the library late, eats in his room and leaves the house extra early in the morning just so he doesn’t have to face them. He has a feeling that if either were to ask what had happened he’d start crying again and never stop.

Meeting Eliott, in a lot of ways, had left him feeling like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Even though Eliott complicated everything about Lucas’ life, and made him consider things he was actively trying to avoid considering, Eliott had been so, so good for him, in so many ways.  

Now that Eliott has asked for time, (and god what does that even  _ mean _ ?) Lucas can feel that weight settling back onto his shoulders. 

He isn’t sure if Eliott is just using this as a convoluted way to get him to back off and never speak to him again or if Eliott is being genuine, if he actually does need some space. The first option leaves him breathless with terror. He’s only known Eliott for a tiny amount of time in the grand scheme of things, but already he can’t imagine his life without Eliott planted firmly in it, in some way, shape or form. But then, If Eliott really just wants some time to think, then how long is he talking; a week? A month? Is Lucas supposed to exist in this between state until Eliott is ready to talk to him again? He feels like a ghost already. What will it feel like further down the line?

Either way, life continues. As much as he wishes it wouldn’t.

He’s a liar by nature but he sticks to his promise to make an appointment on Thursday and they manage to squeeze him in on Friday morning. He never replied to Eliott’s text and he can’t face the questions Mika and Manon would throw at him if he told them, and so when he walks into the doctor’s practice he does so alone. His hands are shoved so far into the long hoodie pocket over his stomach that they meet in the middle, a painful reminder that the only person here to hold his hand, is himself. 

He waits in the reception area in an uncomfortable chair, the only teenager his age in a room full of senior citizens and the odd parent with a small child. He keeps his eyes on his knees, on the small grease stain in the crease of material there, and refuses to look up until someone calls his name and he trundles into the doctor’s office. 

The seat he takes in here is only slightly softer and he shuffles in it awkwardly until he can find a position that doesn’t press painfully against his spine. You’d think in a doctor’s office of all places they would understand the concept of not  _ maiming _ the patients with ill fitting chairs. The doctor opposite him is a woman. She is dark skinned, with short black hair and warm eyes. A beta. She had introduced herself to him with a welcoming smile, but he cannot remember her name and his anxiety latches onto this fact until he’s spending more time trying to remember than he is thinking about how to explain why he’s here.

“What can I do for you? The notes the receptionist made suggest it’s something to do with your status?”

“Yeah.” He twists his hands together and bites at the inside of his cheek sharply enough to focus his brain for a little while at least. The silence is loud between them but he can’t find it in himself to speak again.

“Are you alright?” She’s frowning now, leaning forward in her chair. “Do you need some water?”

He shakes his head and forces air in through his nose and out of his mouth in the best imitation of normal breathing that he can manage. He takes the little baggie out of the pocket in his jeans and deposits it on the table between them.

They both stare at it like it is a bomb, seconds away from detonation. 

The doctor, whose name tag he can now see as she’s shifted position (Dr. Yasmin Harding - he tries to memorise it), uses her thumb and forefinger to grasp the top of the bag and lift it so she can examine it properly. 

“These are suppressants.” She says dubiously. “High grade, military quality.” She glances at him. “Your notes say you’re a beta.” Her eyes speak volumes, the way they scan his body like they’re looking for signs of his presentation.  _ She already knows,  _ he thinks,  _ why do I have to say it. _

“Yup.” He finally manages to speak and it’s the most lousy excuse of a squeak in history. Even mice would look down their little mouse noses at him, and he’d deserve their disdain.

“Alright.” She continues to examine him, wary perhaps, at his lack of willingness to talk when he is the one who made the appointment in the first place. The little bag is placed back on the desk and she leans back in her chair, fingers pressed together in front of her in a steeple. “Are these yours?” 

“Yes.” 

“I’m going to need a bit more information,” she tells him. “If you want me to help you.” She needs him to say it, he can tell by the expression on her face. Her mouth is down turned and the lines around it are harsh, but her eyes are still as gentle as they had been when he walked into the room. 

So Lucas tells her. He doesn’t know where he finds the words, he must dig them up from somewhere deep because every one that falls feels like it has dislodged something in his chest that falls and falls and falls until it impacts in the pit of his stomach.

“I presented as an omega when I was fourteen, just a year after my mother, who was also an omega, was taken into care because of her mental health. I was scared. I was living with a foster family who didn’t give a shit about me and I didn’t want them to send me off to some institute like they had with her.” He inhales raggedly, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’d seen people buying drugs in the street, so I took my entire allowance and used it to buy suppressants, and I’ve been doing that ever since. No one knew.”

“No one?”

“No one.” Lucas sighs, clenching his fists where they’re sheltered back in his hoodie pocket. He resists the urge to pull a face.  _ Liar, liar pants on fire. _ He’s good at it by now though, and she doesn’t suspect. “Not until last night, when I told the person I live with, my guardian, Mika.” He doesn’t mention Manon, since he hasn’t told Alice yet that there’s a third person living in the house and he isn’t sure if he’d get into trouble for that.

Dr. Harding consults her notes. “You’ve been on suppressants, these specific kind, for three years now then, by my calculations.” Lucas nods. “Alright.” She looks weary when she looks back up at him again. “Your caseworker is listed here in your file too, an Alice Bernard. I’ll have to contact her about this, she needs to be brought up to speed.”

“Will I be removed from my current home?” Lucas heart starts to beat faster and his palms feel sweaty. Dr. Harding purses her lips and glances down at the table, considering, and then back up at him.

“Do you want to be?”

“No!” Lucas bolts upright in his chair, back ramrod straight. “No! It was Mika who convinced me to come here today. If he hadn’t then I might have been on these for the rest of my life.”

“It would have been a very short one.” She tells him quietly, and his mouth slackens. “I’m not going to lie to you, Lucas, these drugs are a controlled substance because they are dangerous to take over a prolonged period of time.” She makes a note in his folder, a scribble he can’t read from where he’s sat.

“I thought… the research on them says they’re safe, though?” He had read so many different articles back when he’d presented. He’d been so  _ sure _ .

“Oh, they are. Out of the various options for suppressants they’re probably the best.” She confirms. “But only for periods of six to nine months. Generally they’re used by omegas in the military when they do tours or training that require them to abstain from a heat for that length of time, but as soon as they’re back they’re told to stop taking them, and each time there must be a period of at least fifteen months before they take them again. You’ve been on them for three years.” She purses her lips and sighs. “I’m guessing you looked into them, at some point, and the reason why you’re so shocked is probably because most of the military or medical related articles are likely to have been under academic or pay locks. The majority of them wouldn’t have been available at a casual google. And your brain would have been looking for evidence supporting the outcome you wanted.”

Lucas stares at her. It was so long ago, he can’t even remember the names of the articles he read, or the websites he used. Was he really so naive?

“I need to ask if you’ve been taking breaks for your heats.”

“Yeah,” he swallows hard. “Every six months.” Some of the tension seems to drop from her shoulders and she graces him with a small smile. “My- I mean. The dealer that I got them through was always very specific about that.”

“Your drug dealer might have just saved your life. Which is ironic, considering without these pills it never would have been in danger to start with.” Lucas blanches, pulling his hands free of their pocket and rubbing his knuckles against his legs nervously, just for something to  _ do. _ “I’ve only seen a handful of cases like yours, thankfully. In fact, seven in total have passed through this practice while I’ve worked here, and only two of those didn’t allow for any heats.”

“What happened to them?”

“I’m afraid they were both dead by their twentieth birthdays.” Oh, _ fuck _ . “But by the time they came to us they’d been on them for almost double the length of your self medication.”

“I don’t understand. Why did they  _ die _ ?” He’s shaking so hard he’s surprised he can talk. His teeth are knocking together awkwardly as he speaks and he almost bites the tip off of his own tongue at one point. “They’re just… they’re just to stop heats?”

“They bring several natural systems within your body to a halt, block several types of hormones and artificially introduce another two. This can have a knock on effect on your organs. You were young when you started taking them and I doubt your dealer explained all the details to you, but with every type of medication there is a risk. If you take antibiotics too often your body starts to become immune to them. Anti depression medication can lead to potentially serious levels of serotonin which can lead to a whole other range of side effects. Generally there is an adult involved in cases which involve serious medication like this, either as the sufferer or as the guardian of a sufferer, and potential problems can be discussed.” She smiles sadly at him. “I know it’s hard to hear, but you need to be aware.”

“What happened to the rest?” His voice is raspy, like he’s swallowed a handful of iron shavings. 

“Three of them had been allowing one heat break per year, ranging from taking the pills for two years to taking them for five years, and they all experienced high levels of damage to their reproductive systems but they’re still alive and living full lives. The other two were like you, two breaks, for roughly around two years. They’re both fine now, but they were older when they started. Their bodies had already had chance to develop, whereas yours may have been cut off from a lot of essential developments.”

His jaws hurts. He isn’t sure why at first, but then he realises how hard he’s clenching his teeth together. It’s impossible to let go though, it feels as if someone has attached a live wire to his body and now the current is running through him on a continuous loop. His mouth might as well have been stapled shut.

“Have you had any symptoms? Dizziness, fatigue, nausea?” 

Lucas shakes his head, frantically trying to scan his memories in case he’s missing something.

“That’s good, that’s really good. If there was already severe damage in all likelihood you would have experienced something.” She scratches her pen against the file as she writes, and his eyes zero in on it, wondering what kinds of words she’s using. _ Idiot. Fool. Naive _ . He feels all of them. Every little lie he’s told himself since he was fourteen is swimming around in his head, a shoal of piranhas scenting blood.

_ You don’t want to be an omega anyway. _

_ It doesn’t matter if they affect your ability to have kids, you don’t want this. _

_ They’re legal drugs. Like aspirin.   _

Dr. Harding’s mouth is moving but he can’t hear her. He can’t feel his hands, his feet his-  _ He can’t see. _ He’s underwater again, deep,  _ there’s so much pressure on his chest, _ deep, in the Mariana Trench bubbles escaping from his lips there’s no air,  _ there’s no air _ and no one can reach him, no one can-

Much like before, with Eliott, he doesn’t notice that she’s moved until she’s knelt on the floor in front of him, one hand on his wrist to take his pulse and the other lifting his chin to look into his eyes and then gently lower his head so that it’s between his knees. She smells very, very faintly like vanilla, like Eliott, more of a perfume than an actual natural scent, but it’s enough to hack through some of the panic, enough that he can inhale once, twice, three times.

When sound returns to him all he can hear is the sound of his own ragged inhales and exhales. Dr. Harding is still, waiting for him to catch his breath. “Focus on your breathing,” she murmurs, rubbing gentle circles on his back. “Breathe in slowly and deeply through your nose, breathe out the same through your mouth, and repeat.”

He follows her instructions as religiously as he can, and eventually the feeling returns to his hands and feet, and he blinks his eyes open, still panting slightly. She checks his pulse again.

“Alright,” she murmurs, pulling back a little to give him some space. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to do a full physical now, I’ll check your blood pressure and your weight, I’ll organise a quick blood test so we can get that analysed, most hormones can be seen in the blood so we’ll be able to check for cursory information through that.” She quickly runs through a set of several other tests that are non-invasive to perform. When she’s sure that he’s stable enough to be on his own she leaves the room to get some orange juice and to check the availability of the equipment they’ll need.

 

By the time he leaves the practice, sans pills, he’s already missed over half of his classes, but he drags himself to school to finish the rest with a signed doctor's note that excuses his absence. Before he’d left, but after all the exams and tests had been completed, and the ones that had already been analysed had come back clean, she’d sat him down again to talk about where he was going to go from this point.

“You said you took a pill yesterday, but not today. Why is that?”

“I don’t know.” He had admitted. “There was just-- I don’t know. Something stopped me. I was going to wait until after the appointment and take one then, once I was sure they were safe, but-” He pursed his lips, the rest didn’t need to be said. It was explicit through the look on her face. 

“Good. Yesterday needs to be the last time you touch one of these pills. You won’t be taking today’s dose.” 

“But-” 

“But nothing. Have you been paying attention to anything I’ve said this past hour?” She had raised an eyebrow at him and he’d flushed guiltily. “You’re going to stop. You said you were due your heat in about a week or so anyway so it’s almost perfect timing. You’ll have the weekend to get used to the idea and then on Sunday or Monday your heat will trigger. It’s very important that you try to stay away from unnecessarily stressful situations, if you can. For the next year or so you might have uneven heats, shorter or longer than usual, possibly triggered by strong emotions or adrenaline, as your hormonal system gets used to it’s proper functioning. You can call me, anytime, if you have questions.”

She’d given him her direct office phone number along with a note for next week too, to have the first half of it off to recover from his heat. Alice would be contacted within the week and then she would go through the school to explain everything and get his past heat-induced absences wiped from his record. And then, Lucas had mentally added, Alice would probably come for his blood personally.

 

His afternoon classes seem to fly by. He sees Daphne at one point, but she takes one look at his face and doesn’t approach him. He spends each lesson  alternating between thinking of Eliott and thinking about how the rest of his life might play out after this. Of how it  _ could  _ have played out if he hadn’t met Eliott and decided to come off of the pills. 

He doesn’t even know what the rest of the test results will say. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to focus on school when at this very moment his body could be turning against him, killing him slowly.

After his last lesson of the day he pulls out his phone. Part of him wants to contact Eliott but there are other bridges that need to be mended. And it’s not like Eliott wants to be contacted. He wants his  _ time to think _ . 

**Lucas**

_ Is the gang up to anything tonight? _

**Yann**

_ Just hanging. Why? You got a suggestion? _

**Lucas**

_ Yeah. Need to talk to you all. It’s important. Bring beer?  _

He has roughly 48 hours before his heat hits. Before his scent normalises and the entire school know that he’s been lying to them. Yann, Arthur and Bas deserve to know the truth first hand after all the lying and avoiding he’s been doing. And besides, Dr. Harding said it would be about a week before he got the rest of his results back so see whether there was any lasting damage and if there’s one thing he needs, that the gang can provide, it’s a distraction. 

**Yann**

_ Count us in.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know anything about medicine so... yolo haha. just go with it. what i do know about tho is those pesky pay blocks for academic journals *shakes fist* they were the bane of my existence in university. 
> 
> hope you enjoyed it! as much as you can enjoy another ride on the angst train haha. thank you so much for all the comments last chapter <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The atmosphere is kind of tense at first.

The atmosphere is kind of tense at first. 

Understandably so, since Lucas has brought them all here for a reason and yet he has barely spoken a handful of words since they arrived. He is the elephant in the room. Every little casual comment Basile makes, every look Yann throws at Lucas, every time Arthur pops open the tab on a new can of beer, it draws attention to the fact that Lucas is stone in his seat. 

He had kind of figured that telling the boys would be as easy as telling Manon but with all three of them sneaking secretive glances his way the tension is mounting on his shoulders and he’s starting to feel like he can’t breathe again, never mind speak. 

Eventually, after Lucas fails to respond to a third question in a row, Yann makes a move.

“Guys,” he glances between Bas and Arthur. “Mind giving us a few minutes?” Arthur and Basile high tail it out of there like they’re being chased. They take refuge in Lucas’ bedroom and there’s one heart-stopping moment where Lucas panics, wondering if he’s hid his suppressants well enough, before he remembers that Dr. Harding had insisted he leave them behind in her office for testing and disposal. 

Lucas turns back from where he’d been staring at his closed bedroom door to find that Yann has moved to the side of the sofa closest to him, and is watching him with calm, concerned eyes.

“What’s going on?” He asks. Straight to the point, no messing around.

“I’m not sure how to say it.” Lucas admits. He leans back in the chair and lets his head fall back onto the cushion behind him. His hands are clasped in his lap; he doesn’t want Yann to see how much they’re shaking.

“With words generally works best.”

Lucas snorts, closing his eyes briefly. This is what he loves about his best friend; no bullshit. And yet he finds himself wishing for considerably more bullshit just to get another half an hour where he doesn’t have to speak. He sighs and pushes himself forwards so he’s mimicking Yann’s pose, elbows on knees, back slightly curved over his thighs. He meets his best friend’s eyes.

“I’m scared.” He says. “I don’t know how you’ll react.”

“Has it got something to do with the way you’ve been acting this past month?”

“It’s got something to do with the way I’ve been acting since I was fourteen. But I guess that’s been, I don’t know, more exaggerated than usual.” Since Eliott. Since honesty became more of a need than a want.

Yann just continues to watch him, letting him speak in his own time now that he’s cracked the seal and started to allow the words to the surface.

“You know about my mother.” He starts with. “Where she is, and why.” Yann nods when Lucas pauses. “What I never told you though, is that I’m an omega too. I’ll give you as many details as you need later, I promise, but for now just the highlights.” Lucas studies his own hands, unwilling to risk looking at Yann again until he’s got this all out. 

“I’ve been on suppressants since I was fourteen. And you don’t need to give me the lecture, Eliott, Mika and Manon have all been there done that. I went to see a doctor about it today. And, for the record, she didn’t go easy on me either.” He blows a long breath out through his nose, picking at the rough skin on the edge of his thumb. “She basically called me an idiot, said that the pills were a massive health risk, people have died on them or whatever, and that I need to come off them straight away. So I did. I mean, I am. No pill today, no pill tomorrow. My heat will probably hit on Sunday or Monday. Oh,” Lucas throws caution to the wind and speaks a little faster, if possible. “Also I like boys. One boy in particular. His name is Eliott, you met him the other day, and I really like him but he thinks we’ve been moving too fast and I get the impression maybe I like him more than he likes me?” And  _ breathe _ . It’s all out now, in the open where it belongs. He can only hope that Yann agrees.

Silence. Maybe he spoke too fast to be understood. It is kind of a lot of information to take in one go, and apparently Lucas’ strength does not lay in brevity. 

He looks up finally, heart in his throat, beating a thousand miles a minute. Yann is sat exactly where he’d been the last time Lucas had looked, but he’s covering his face with his hands.

_ Oh shit. Please no. Not Yann too.  _

“Are you alright?”  _ Wait, what?  _ Yann pulls his hands away from his face and Lucas almost chokes. There are honest to god tears in Yann’s eyes. He’s made his best friend  _ cry _ . “Did the doctor say if you’d be alright? You said it was dangerous.”

“That’s what you took away from this?” Lucas is stunned. He’d expected more shouting.

“What the _ fuck _ , Lucas!”  _ There we go _ . “You think I give a shit that you’re  _ gay _ or a fucking omega when you’ve just told me that an  _ actual _ doctor said people have  _ actually _ died pulling the shit that you’ve been pulling for years right under my  _ fucking _ nose?” Lucas flinches away as the words explode from Yann’s mouth, darting a glance at his still closed bedroom door.  _ Alright. _ If Yann could go back to the not shouting part that would be great. “You think I wouldn’t prefer an alive best friend, regardless of whatever gender or sexuality they happen to be born with? Do you  _ even fucking know me _ ?” He stands abruptly, moving in jolting steps away from the sofa and, by association, Lucas and towards the door where their shoes are piled in haphazard fashion.

“Yann!” Lucas yelps, standing and darting after him, almost stumbling over the edge of his own seat and then his own foot in his desperation to stop Yann from leaving. “Don’t go!”  _ not you too please oh god don’t leave me please don’t go don’t go don’t go. _

“Oh, fuck  _ off _ ,” Yann snarls, whipping around to face him. “You think i’m going to just leave you here to explain all this to those two? When you haven’t even given me an answer as to if you’re gonna  _ die _ or not? Jesus _C_ _ hrist _ .” He buries his face in his hands again, gulping down breaths of air like he’s spent the past five minutes under water. Sometimes it’s easy to forget that Yann is an alpha, when usually he is the epitome of calm and collected. This is not one of those times. Tension radiates in almost visible waves.

“I’m sorry.” Lucas whispers, hands clutching at his own clothes in an effort to keep from reaching out to his best friend. Every hair on his body is stood on end, his entire system is telling him to tread lightly. He knows in his heart that Yann would never, ever hurt him, but his instincts are screaming that there is an alpha in the room and by god he is  _ angry.  _

“Lucas.” Yann snaps, taking a step closer. “Are. You. Alright?” Lucas jolts, realising he still hasn’t answered Yann’s question. 

“Yeah. I mean. Maybe.”

“Not.  _ Helping _ .” Yann’s teeth are grinding together so loud Lucas can hear them. His scent is off the charts stressed, to an extent Lucas doesn’t think he’s ever experienced before. Mint floods the apartment so thick in the air that he can almost taste it.

“From the tests that she did in the exam room while I was there, I’m fine. My bloods were a bit abnormal but she says that’s to be expected. I need to go back in a month or so when my system has returned to normal to have more tests done, and the results of the other exams are still pending, they can’t be analysed in the local doctors, they need to be sent to a hospital. We won’t know about those for about a week, maybe two.” Lucas throws the words out as fast as he is able while still ensuring that they sound like actual words instead of an indecipherable mess.

Yann breathes out a hurricane breath, wild and desperately relieved. “Come and hug me, you bastard.” 

Lucas half runs to him, letting Yann fold him into his arms like a soft ball of malleable clay. He is Lucas remade, when Yann eventually lets him go. A different shape; standing a little taller, breathing a little easier. They stand parallel to each other, gazes locked across the small space between them. Yann’s eyes are still damp and Lucas isn’t doing any better; he’s ends up dragging his sleeves over his knuckles into a makeshift sweater paw so he can rub at the tear tracks on his cheeks.

“I’m sorry if I ever did anything to make you think that I wouldn’t accept who you are, no reservations, no questions asked.” Yann says. Most of the anger has drained from his voice, leaving only an undercurrent of unexpressed fury and frustration. It doesn’t scare Lucas anymore though. He has a feeling it isn’t just directed at Lucas himself, but at Yann too, and the world in general for being shit enough that Lucas felt the need to lie in the first place. “I wish you could have talked to me about it, especially since keeping it all inside and relying at drugs to help you instead of your best friend has actually been putting your life in danger. You are, in fact, an idiot, like the doctor said.” Lucas nods his head perhaps a little too fast, almost giving himself whiplash. Looking into Yann’s eyes right here, right now in this moment, Lucas is wondering how he could have ever been so blind as to think that Yann wouldn’t want to know this stuff, or that he wouldn’t support Lucas. 

Hindsight is 20/20 as they say. 

“I think I just got so used to the idea that no one could ever know it was hard to break through that wall that i’d put up around myself, you know? It wasn’t until Eliott that I considered there was another way to live life that wasn’t all about hiding, and even that was mostly because I thought we’d come out together. I thought that with him by my side I wouldn’t feel as scared to be an omega at school.”

“Because he’s an alpha?” Yann asks, curious and eager to dig into this chapter of Lucas’ life he’d been held back from for so long.

“Because he’s Eliott.” Lucas shrugs. “I mean. You’re an alpha, I’d feel safe with you too but… no offense, it just wasn’t ever enough to make me think about it seriously. Being with him, though… it was like before I met him the world hurt to exist in, it was too much, too big, too dark. And when he was near I could see further than I could without him, and, I don’t know, when it wasn’t so dark it wasn’t so scary. There weren’t as many shadows for the bad things to hide in.” He blushes and laughs at his own choice of words. “That’s so fucking cheesy, but it’s true.”

“Yep,” Yann nods, expression grave. “I think you might need to go back to the doctors.”

“What?” Lucas demands, nervously clutching his sleeves. “Why?”

“Your brain has turned to mush and you’re practically reciting poetry. This has gotta be the result of a brain injury.”

“Yann!” Lucas laughs, half in relief, half in incredulity. It must be a good sign though, that Yann feels able to joke about it. They look at each other for another moment before Yann rolls his eyes and opens his arms again just in time to receive another armful of Lucas. He presses his nose into the curve of Lucas’ neck. 

“One last question: did he physically roll all over you until you were covered in his scent, or?”

“Well,” Lucas thinks about it. “In a manner of speaking, yes.” There had been quite a bit of rolling around on a bed at one point, after all. 

“In a manner of--? Oh.  _ Oh! _ Good for you!” Yann smacks him on the back as they pull apart once more, making their slow way back to the sofa. They sit and Lucas fills him in on everything that’s happened, every detail he didn’t give Mika, every moment he had been hoarding close to his chest. 

About twenty minutes later there’s an awkward cough from the other side of the apartment, and their heads both whip around to find Arthur and Basile looking through a gap in the door of Lucas’ room. 

“Not to intrude or anything, but…”

“Oh shit.” Lucas and Yann speak at the same time. 

“Yeah, we kind of figured you’d forgot about us.” Arthur pushes his glasses up his nose and then shoves at the door until the gap is wide enough to see them both stood side by side instead of one head above the other, trying to get a glimpse of whatever was going on in the living room. Basile is bouncing on the balls of his feet and beaming. Lucas has a very bad feeling.

“I’m so sorry guys, we just got a little…” He starts to say.

“Caught up?” Arthur interrupts with a grin.

“Talking of which!” Basile bounces over to Lucas. “Has anyone ever told you your walls are super thin?” 

Oh  _ shit.  _ Well. At least that solves the problem of how to explain all this again to Arthur and Basile. 

“So like, what’s a heat like?” Basile asks. “And how do I get a girl to spend her’s with me?”

“For fucks sake.” Yann groans on the background. Lucas regrets every life decision that has brought him to this moment. 

 

After more beer, at least two politically inclined Basile-shut-up speeches and a bit more detail sharing than Lucas is comfortable with, every atom of tension that had existed between the four of them has been vaporised, for better or for worse. His main problem in life has gone from being ‘how do I tell my best friends that i’m an omega/gay/an idiot for taking suppressants?’ to ‘how do I get said best friends to shut the fuck up about the fact that i’m an omega/gay/an idiot for taking suppressants?’

In all honesty though, Lucas doesn’t mind it. For every question they ask, and every detail of himself he subsequently shares, it feels like the veil between him and the world is lifting another inch. And inch by inch that gauzy layer he is used to seeing the world through, is vanishing. 

Basile’s phone buzzes, distracting him from his most recent line of inquiry (Lucas can’t even say what Bas is asking at this point. He’s had so many questions -- they all kind of blurred together a couple of beers ago.

“Oh!” Basile yells, waving his phone in the air and startling them all. “There’s a party at Chloe’s house! We should totally go! Celebrate Lucas’ coming out!”

“I’m only out to you guys, and Manon and Mika and Eliott.” Come to think about it, the list is getting larger and larger. “And I don’t even know a Chloe.  _ And  _ I’ve drank enough by this point that my scent is going to start showing through.” Especially in combination with the fact that he hasn’t had a pill today and so his body is working on the dregs of yesterdays.

“Sure you do,” Arthur says, raising an eyebrow at him. “You danced with her at that party that Daphne threw in the foyer.”

“I did?” 

“That alpha girl? The really cute one?”

“Oh!” Lucas says. “Her.”

“Besides,” says Basile. “By the end of next week everyone is going to know anyway, might as well get drunk and get it over and done with! Maybe Eliott will even be there and we can kick his ass for you.”

When Lucas had explained the Eliott situation to the boys, Arthur and Basile had been very annoyed on his behalf. Lucas had tried to explain that Eliott might have a valid reason to pull away but Basile had declared that if he liked someone who suddenly declared herself an omega the last thing he would do is run away. Arthur had nodded furiously and Yann had thrown him a helpless look. 

Yann was the only one of them who had encouraged Lucas to give Eliott another chance. The boys all know about Lucas’ past now, including his background with his mother, but Yann has known Lucas for a long time and on a whole other level. He was already aware of Lucas’ lack of relationship with his mother and he has more of a grasp of why Lucas might sympathise with Eliott’s decision to leave him.

“And,” Arthur adds. “You owe Bas a birthday present. You can get us in, since you know her!”

“Yeah!” Bas claps his hands together. “You can practice using your omega wiles!” 

“Alright.” He sighs, rolling his eyes at the yelp of excitement Bas lets off. “But just so you know, that’s stereotypical. And please don’t ever use the word ‘wiles,’ again.”

“Yes!” Basile holds both hands up for a high five but Lucas just rolls his eyes again and climbs to his feet. “Also,” Bas calls after him. “We should talk about our moms some time. We might have more in common than you think, in a way. Kind of.” Lucas looks back at him and raises an eyebrow but Bas just shakes his head and shoos Lucas onwards. “Now isn’t the time, we’ll chat later. There are drinks to be had and girls to be flirted with!”

Lucas sighs. 

They’ve got a party to get to, whether he wants to go or not. 

 

The area surrounding the house is heaving with people and the air is thick with the scent of sweat and attraction and alcohol. Lucas hasn’t been there for five minutes before he starts to feel a little sick with it all. He manages to talk them past the self imposed bouncer only because Chloe happens to be crossing past the door at the right time and when she sees him she drags the entire gang in without even acknowledging the people by the door.

They disperse after that, Bas and Arthur head in one direction and after checking it’s okay with Lucas, Yann heads in another. Lucas is left with Chloe, who is beaming at him. 

“It’s so good to see you again!” She shouts over the music. 

“Yeah.” He swallows the bile at the back of his throat. He once read somewhere that the most annoying thing about coming out is that it isn’t a one time deal. You have to do it for the rest of your life. Lucas is starting to realise, with dawning horror, how true that statement is. 

“How have you been?”

“Very gay.” 

Oh. Oh my god. 

Chloe blinks at him, wide eyed. Lucas mirrors her expression right back. He’d meant to say ‘very good,’ for  _ fucks sake _ .

“Okay!” She says, voice just a little too high pitched to be considered normal. “I’m happy for you! Bye!” She leaves in a hurry but he gets the sense that it’s more because she’s embarrassed for flirting with him than anything truly mean-spirited.

He needs another drink. 

It’s as he glances around for the kitchen that he sees Eliott’s fluffy hair out of the corner of his eye. He zeroes in on it like a homing pigeon and he’s pushing through the crowd before he even realises he’s moving. Eliott vanishes out of the back door before Lucas can get to him, so he tries another tactic, doubling back the way he came and heading through the front door to try and cut him off down the side of the house.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing. Earlier today he’d been perfectly prepared to be the bigger person and allow Eliott his time, his space, whatever it was that he’d needed so much that he’d brushed Lucas off. Perfectly might be the wrong word actually. Annoyingly fits better. Either way though, he’d made the choice to contact the gang instead of reaching out to Eliott, but here he is, chasing after him. Maybe if he can get Eliott to talk to him now, tonight, they can clear things up. Maybe everything can get back to normal. 

As soon as he’s out in the fresh air his head feels less woozy. He can very faintly smell vanilla, but it’s muddied by something else. Must be the alcohol, or maybe just the scent of the crowd. He turns the corner at a quick walking pace, and stops so suddenly that he physically staggers to the side and into the wall, scuffing his cheek against the rough brick.

_ Oh. _

Eliott is there, like Lucas had thought he would be, but so is Lucille. 

They’re talking quietly enough that he has no chance of hearing them through the music that seeps out of the walls. Eliott doesn’t look happy per say, but he doesn’t look like a boy who has broken up with his girlfriend either, considering how close they’re stood and how Lucille is looking at him.

When Lucille leans up to kiss him and Eliott doesn’t stop her Lucas feels his entire world implode. Colour seeps from his vision, leaving a black and white world full of shadow. There’s an inaudible crack in his chest, and he wonders numbly if it’s normal for hearts to literally break like this; an actual physical response. His blood is fizzing, rushing dizzyingly through his veins like his entire body is a soda can that someone has been tossing carelessly in the air. Everything is compressed and pressurised until it isn’t; the breath he’s been holding since he first saw Eliott pressed so close to Lucille is a silent scream that escapes but is impossible to replace. His lungs fill with panic instead of oxygen. 

Distantly he is aware that Eliott’s head snaps around in his direction, breaking the kiss. He is aware that their eyes meet. He doesn’t know what is is about that moment that clued Eliott into Lucas’ presence at the party but he can’t find it in himself to care. He staggers backwards, the side of his body dragging against the brick wall where he is still pressed against it. Something rips. Someone calls his name. 

Lucas still isn’t breathing. He doesn’t even remember what it feels like to inhale. Time has stretched, thin lines of taffy which ripple as he moves. It has been no more than fifteen seconds, from turning the corner to now, but it feels like a lifetime and Lucas is dying of old age. 

He and his body agree on only one thing; getting as far away from this situation as is physically possible.  _ Tag _ , his brain whispers to him in Eliott’s voice.  _ You’re it _ .

This time there is something more than excitement fuelling his strides. Anger, fear, disappointment. Heart-break. They prove to be far more powerful motivators than the sound of Eliott’s laughter ringing in his ears. He breaks into a run, a race against his demons, and he doesn’t pay attention to where his legs are leading him until they’ve already deposited him at their destination. He finds himself stood in the middle of a deserted street. There are metal shutters pulled down over shop fronts and little to no lights on in the windows above them. 

The further away from the party he had pushed himself the more he could tell what had made Eliott look up. He reeks. It’s a rare moment when Lucas can actually physically smell his own scent but it’s rolling off of him in panicky, sickening waves. Whether it’s the unknown amount of beer cans he’s worked through combined with skipping today’s pill, or the hormonal death trap of seeing the boy he lov-- likes kissing another person, Lucas couldn’t say, but his scent is so strong he would be surprised if anyone who had been in the vicinity at the time wasn’t aware of his status now. And it will spread like wildfire, because these things always do, and instead of going to school after his heat, with Eliott by his side, he’s going to have to go with the knowledge that Lucas was wrong. Eliott hasn’t chosen him. 

Eliott has gone back to the easier option. The safer bet. Lucille is everything Lucas wishes he could be, stable and strong and in complete control of her body and her emotions. 

He’s crying thick gulping sobs and lashing out once, twice, three times, before he even realises what he’s doing. A perfect example of that lack of control. It takes a moment for the pain to kick in but even when it does he still barely feels it; split knuckles are nothing in comparison to what feels like a literal hole in his heart. He presses his back against the wall, now smeared with his blood, and sinks to the floor in a slow, shuddering slide. He tries to breathe like Dr. Harding had taught him in the doctor’s office, but he can’t remember how her instructions went. His brain feels fuzzy, like a radio station which isn’t receiving a signal. 

Something isn’t right. 

In fact, something is very, very wrong. He can feel it creeping over his entire body, spreading out from his brain, fuzzy static along his skin like he’s covered in spiders. He shudders violently, head lolling against his chest. He’s sweating, more than he should be even after a run like that, and he’s so, so warm. He’s panting between breaths.

He’s so  _ warm _ . It’s like he’s burning from the inside out, the heat is devouring him, the-- oh.

Oh  _ no. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .... ayyy .... *waves peace flag in the air* .. don't hurt me.  
> also if the italics police come knocking... u don't know me... i think they're gonna be after me with how many words i italicised in this lmao.
> 
> Thank you so much for your comments last chapter! you guys are gems! i wanna hug you all <3
> 
> At the minute i'm kind of falling behind, i'm only part way through tomorrow's chapter, but I might have friday off of work depending on some stuff and if i do i can get some writing done then to catch myself up a bit, but worse case scenario we might have to skip a day somewhere along this weekend to give me chance to get a bit of a backlog again. gone are the days when i already had 20k written up and ready lmao.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His hands aren’t working properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings at the end contain very slight spoilers.

His hands aren’t working properly. He’s trying to tell them to dig through his pockets for his phone but they aren’t listening to him. They’re shaking, and bleeding, in his lap and he keeps staring down at them like something will change through sheer force of will alone.

He feels like he’s on fire. Maybe he is. Maybe his skin really is charred right down to the bone. He shudders, a soft, pained gasp tears itself from his throat and he wants to curl up into a little ball on the floor but _he can’t move_. Cramps dig their fingers into his stomach and hips, sending shooting pains up his back and down his thighs.

He can hear someone in the distance. Footsteps slapping against concrete, someone calling his name. He tries to answer but the only noise he can make is too quiet for anyone to realistically hear and it sounds more like a kitten in pain than a person anyway. Against all odds though, the footsteps move closer, and with them they bring the scent of burnt chocolate and vanilla. _Eliott_.

“Lucas!” That voice, that familiar, beautiful voice. “Oh my god.” The footsteps are right next to him now, and in his peripheral vision he can see the shape of a person falling to their knees by his side. _That’s going to leave bruises_ , he thinks absently. Cool palms cup his damaged hand, inspecting it, and when he doesn’t respond they relocate to his cheeks, tilting his head up so he can finally see Eliott’s face, bone white and scared. His eyes have an oddly wild glow to them where the streetlamps reflect.

Lucas is dizzy just from that one movement of his head, but being so close to an alpha, to Eliott, settles the frantic beast of his heart to a more sedate prowl around the perimeters of its cage. He can feel the muddy quality that his thoughts have so quickly accumulated lifting off the longer that Eliott spends in his presence.

“Hey,” Eliott taps a finger against his left cheekbone as his eyes try to slip closed. “Hey. Lucas. What’s going on? What-- Lucas, what’s happening?” Eliott shakes him a little as he tries to curl up again, and Lucas doesn’t understand why there’s a weird droning sound below everything he can hear until he realises that it’s him. Lucas is whining, a continuous, pained noise. “Lucas, _please._ Please look at me. You smell....” Eliott hesitates. “Is this…?” He presses closer, dipping his head forward to brush his nose against Lucas’ cheek, and when he pulls back his eyes aren’t just wild, they’re liquid black. In each eye the pupil has swallowed all the colour of the iris. “This is a heat. I don’t understand, I thought you were on suppressants.” Lucas shoves at him and tries to pull him closer in the same movement. “We need to get you off the street.”

“I’m not…” Lucas pants, fighting through the shroud on his brain. “Going anywhere with you.”

“Something is _wrong_ .” Eliott insists. “Heats don’t come on this quickly in a normal omega, never mind one who's taking suppressants.” Yeah, because Lucas could never be _normal_ , could he? “You know this. Lucas _you know you know this._ Please, trust me. I’ll take you home, we can figure this out there.”

“Trust you?” The laugh hurts on it’s way out, and it looks like it hurts when it lands like a slap against Eliott’s face too, if the flinch is anything to go by. _“Trust you.”_ He struggles in Eliott’s grip, trying to break free of the hold the alpha has on his upper arms. “Let me _go_ !” _Don’t let go, don’t ever let me go again._

“Please, stop fighting me, I’m not trying to-” Eliott blanches. “I’m just trying to get you somewhere safe.”

“Well,” Lucas snarls. “That’s not with you, is it? You’re a _liar_ . You let me believe that I meant something to you, that it was okay to be who I am but it isn’t. _It isn’t_.” He’s crying again, every exhale comes out as a soft sob. “I’m not good enough. I never was. I thought-- I thought--- I--.”

Eliott is crying now too, but quietly. The tears that streak his cheeks don’t come with the sounds that Lucas’ do.

He shifts against the concrete as the intensity of the cramps in his abdomen shoot up abruptly, forcing him to curl forward even more so that he ends up with his forehead pressed against Eliott’s chest. The contact both helps, dimming the pain, and hinders, sending signals through his body which he has no power to fight. He can feel his underwear where it’s sticking to his ass and he blushes crimson. Eliott’s nose flares and Lucas has to clench his jaw to hold back the whine when Eliott sways forward against him, enticed by the scent of his slick.

There’s movement behind Eliott’s head and before Lucas even realises what’s going on Eliott has pulled away and whipped around, all trace of terror and sorrow and helpless attraction vanquished from his face.

There are two men stood watching them from the road. One is clearly drunk; he can’t even stand upright correctly, and he’s using the other as a leaning post to keep his balance. The other man is his polar opposite, as still as stone and focused with laser precision on what he can see of Lucas, although this isn’t much considering that Eliott is stood between them like some kind of avenging angel. There’s a darkness to the second man’s eyes, and his scent is thick and tar-like, dirtying the air. Lucas is instinctively revolted.

“Need a hand?” The second man asks, leering. He takes a step towards them and Lucas physically recoils.

“No.” Eliott says, sharp and to the point. “We’re fine.” His scent has morphed into something similar to the fear scent Lucas remembers from a couple days ago, but there are other underlying currents to it; something possessive, something howling and dark.

“You sure? He looks like he’ll put up a fight.”

“If you come one step closer,” Eliott says, voice trembling with barely suppressed fury. “I’ll rip your tongue out of your mouth and stuff it down your throat.”

“Oh yeah?” The drunk man laughs, raucous and amused. Lucas can feel his throat start to close. It’s two against two technically but Lucas is no use to anyone like this. Eliott is alone. “You and whose army?”

“This one.” They all turn as one to look down the street and Lucas has never been so thankful to see Yann in his entire life. His best friend is stood tall, imposing and furious, and Arthur and Bas are on either side of him, looking a lot more nervous but there nonetheless. “And there’s a whole party full of us just down the road. So please, keep talking while I call them over.”

The men exchange a wordless glance, take one last look at where Lucas is still sat on the floor, and then turn to leave. “Let’s go,” one of them mutters. “Bunch of bitches and an omega whore. Not worth the effort.” Lucas sees the way Eliott’s body strains to follow, the way he so clearly wants to dart forward and strike, but he holds himself in check, still stood between Lucas and the world.

No one speaks until they’re far enough away that both Eliott and Yann deem the threat to have passed. And then Yann turns on Eliott.

“Get away from him.”

“I’m just trying to help.” The scent of vanilla and mint clash awkwardly in the air, but Lucas takes a different kind of comfort from the presence of each.

“I know that,” Yann shoulders past him to crouch by Lucas’ side and Lucas practically crawls into his arms. He’s regained the use of basic motor function, finally. “But your scent is probably making things worse.” Lucas doesn’t think it is, to be honest. When Eliott had been closer his skin had felt less like it wanted to crawl off of his body, but he’s angry enough, and hurt enough, that he’d rather deal with that then having to look at Eliott for a moment longer. He doesn’t know how far this stubborn streak will get him, but he’ll cling to it while it lasts.

“What’s happening to him?” Eliott demands, frowning down at the two of them but backing away like Yann suggested. “And do you-- I mean, how much do you know about…” Even in this state Lucas can’t help it, he kind of appreciates that Eliott is trying his best to keep Lucas’ secret, even if it is redundant at this point.

“We know everything. And I’m not 100% sure but this is definitely the start of a heat, though it’s not like any I’ve ever seen before. He had a doctor’s appointment today and she confiscated the suppressants. If he wants you to know anymore than that he’ll tell you himself.” Yann swings Lucas up into his arms, bridal style, and stands like it takes barely any effort at all. “I’m going to let you walk us back to his place,” he says. “But only because I want another alpha around in case we run into those guys again.”

“How did you even find me?” Lucas mumbles into Yann’s t-shirt, still shivering with the heat-induced tremors that run down his spine. The ache in his hips is frustratingly familiar, but none of his heats have started like this before, they tend to build and build and crescendo rather than throw him straight into the deep end.

“Arthur saw you running out the front door and wondered what you were doing,”

“I followed you, but by the time I got outside you were already gone,” Arthur adds, peering over Yann’s shoulder to talk to Lucas. “I went back for Yann and he followed your scent. With the blood it was easier to find.”

“Yeah,” Bas glances back at the wall as they begin to move away from it. “Why exactly did you decide to pick a fight with a wall?”

Lucas looks at Eliott, whose eyes are still locked on Lucas, and they both remain quiet. Bas and Arthur are still annoyed with Eliott for brushing Lucas off, and Yann seems mostly neutral. As tempting as it is Lucas doesn’t really want things to escalate into a full on fist fight, which it would if they were to find out that Eliott has just been stringing Lucas along. He isn’t in a state to deal with that.

Yann jostles Lucas a little, hitching him up to get a better grasp on him when Lucas’ squirming has caused Yann to almost drop him twice.

“I could-” Eliott tries to speak but the look Lucas throws him shuts him up before he can even finish the sentence. If Eliott offers to carry him, Lucas will actually bite him. _Hard._ In a very non-kinky way. In a very non-kinky place. He wraps his arms around himself and plucks at the sleeves of the hoodie, trying to pull them up to his elbows. Bas slaps at his bleeding hand, and then swears profusely when Lucas yelps.

“I’m so sorry Lulu!” He flaps his hands uselessly. “I forgot you hurt your hand! But just because you feel really warm doesn’t mean you should start taking your clothes off!”

“I wasn’t trying to!” Lucas snaps. “God, I just wanted to roll my sleeves up.” He feels so restless. He hates this. He wouldn’t be able to walk if Yann hadn’t picked him up but he feels so vulnerable and exposed, arguably at his weakest and surrounded. It isn’t a good feeling. Especially when he’s aware of how he smells, of how they’re probably all aware of exactly what kind of problems he’s having in his pants.

“Yikes,” Arthur mutters under his breath, then freezes when Lucas turns his laser vision in his direction. “I just mean. This really sucks.”

“Try being me.” Lucas says, a growl to his words that has Arthur and Bas exchanging glances and falling a step behind the rest of them. _Cowards._

Luckily he doesn’t live all that far away from Chloe’s house, and the direction he’d ran in had actually been instinctively the right direction, so they make it back in good time. Someone must have texted Mika because he and Manon are there to meet them at the entrance. Mika is wearing a fucking peg on his nose and Lucas throws him the most withering glare he can conjure whilst in pain. Mika is unrepentant. “Kitten, I’ve been around you when you’re in heat before, you smell like a goddamn dream and I hate you for it. This is for the best for both our sanity's sakes.”

There’s a weird noise from behind them, and it takes a moment for Lucas to realise that Eliott is growling softly under his breath, eyes locked on Mika with dangerous intent.

“Calm down, cowboy.” Mika sighs and moves aside to let Yann past. He doesn’t know about Lucas’ most current issues with Eliott thanks to Lucas’ superior (and yet, currently wildly regretted) avoidance skills, so he doesn’t stop the other alpha from coming too. Manon puts a hand up when Arthur and Bas try to follow though.

“Sorry guys, but it’s going to be crowded enough up there, and if this really is a heat then Lucas isn’t going to want more people than necessary, believe me.” The boys exchange a concerned look. “Don’t worry,” she smiles at them and pats their cheeks. “We’ve got this. I’ll make sure that Lucas texts you when he’s feeling better.”

“I’m right here.” Lucas mutters under his breath, even though he’s kind of grateful for Manon’s interference. He can actually think clearly now, for the most part. He wants to pretend that this is down to his quick adaptability, but he can feel the way that it waxes and wanes with the distance between Eliott and himself. When Eliott ventures too far the spiders returns to their crawling under his skin and his brain begins to boil in his skull. This is… problematic, to say the least, because Lucas doesn’t _want_ Eliott anywhere near him. But he needs him. Or at least, that’s what his instincts are telling him.

_Closer, get closer, crawl through his rib cage, make a pillow of his heart._

_Ew,_ Lucas tells his instincts. _Fuck off._

They take the elevator. It is quite possibly the most awkward situation he has ever been in, and were it happening to someone else he would find it ludicrously funny. The stale air in the tiny compartment is an unpleasant mixture of all three alpha scents, plus Manon’s floral accent and Lucas’... well. Lucas messy heat scent. Thunderclouds and the electric tang of lightning.

They don’t meet anyone on their way to the apartment, and when Manon flings open the door to let them in they all make an almost comical dash for the entrance. Eliott catches Mika’s shoulder just in time to allow Yann, with Lucas still in his arms, to get through first and avoid a full on collision. No one wants to spend more time in that narrow scent-thick corridor than they need to.

Yann takes Lucas into his room, and the distance from Eliott nags at the back of his mind almost instantly. He whines against his will, struggling in Yann’s grip. Yann swears, almost dropping him again. His brain is screaming at him to chill out, to stop fighting, but his omega instincts are throwing themselves at the walls of his body so hard he’s surprised Yann can’t feel them pressing through his skin like little hands, demanding he go back to Eliott.

He isn’t alone in that though, Eliott comes through the door only moments after it had shut behind them. He’s sweating slightly and his gaze is wide and a little unseeing, until he focuses on where Yann is not so gently depositing Lucas onto the bed and trying to wrestle his hoodie off. Burnt vanilla drowns out any trace of mint and Yann actually makes an apologetic noise in _Eliott’s_ direction until Lucas jabs him in the stomach with an ‘accidental’ stray elbow.

“Sorry,” Yann mutters under his breath, in Lucas ear, dutifully ignoring the faint growl that’s starting to increase in volume from Eliott’s side of the room. “All my instincts are screaming that you’re his omega, and that I really shouldn’t be touching you when you’re in heat and he’s literally right there.”

“You don’t have to whisper.” Lucas says, pointedly loud as he lifts his arms so that Yann can yank the hoodie over his head and throw it into the corner. Lucas doesn’t miss how Eliott’s eyes track it hungrily. _Fucking alpha hormones._ It makes him a little sick to think that the only reason Eliott is here right now is because of how Lucas smells. If Lucas hadn’t burst into a freaking spontaneous heat like he had Eliott wouldn’t have even noticed him. He’d still be at the party, kissing Lucille. “I don’t belong to Eliott.” _Yes, you do._ “He isn’t my alpha.” _Yes, he is_ . “I could have sex with you right now if we wanted!” _Ew, ew, EW_. He doesn’t want to have sex with his best friend. He got over his crush on Yann a long time ago but he has a point to make, as disgusting as it is. Yann cringes, flicking a glance at Eliott like he expects the other alpha to throw himself across the room to protect his claim, and to be fair, Eliott looks tempted when Lucas risks a glance in his direction too.

It feels a little better to get a layer of clothing off, but he’s still so fucking warm. His limbs feel heavy and his head weighs down the pillow. The clothes he is still wearing are sticking to him in inconvenient places, a mixture of sweat and slick. He rolls onto his back with a frustrated huff. There’s no getting comfortable here. He body doesn’t want a bed, or at least, not a bed without Eliott in it. And he wants more blankets; the urge to nest is a niggling feeling in the back of his skull.

There’s a knock at the door and a second later Manon enters with a canvas tote in her grip. She leans it against his bedside table and crouches to rifle through it. One by one the items within are revealed as she lines them up on the table, narrating her way through them. “Alright, we have some bandages for your hand, and some antiseptic wipes too. There are painkillers for cramps, some water for hydration-- don’t you roll your eyes at me, mister, you better drink these, they have added electrolytes-- some energy bars-- you probably won’t feel up to eating these tonight but try to get at least one down. Here’s a cooling pad, you activate it and lay in on the mattress and it’ll help you sleep by cooling you down a little, in a safe way, let’s see, what else…”

“Manon,” Lucas watches her root into the bag again, bemused. “You know I have been through a heat before, right? This isn’t my first time.” She looks so frazzled with worry.

“I know. But this is… you weren’t prepared for it. Neither were we. I wish you’d have told us you stopped taking the pills a couple days ago, Lucas. You didn’t have to lie about that, we’d have supported you.”

“But I didn’t lie. Today has been the only dose I missed so far.”

“But,” she frowns. “Then how--?”

“The doctor said that strong emotions and stress hormones might be able to trigger heats for a while before my body gets back to normal.”

Eliott makes a pained noise from the corner of Lucas’ room, where he’s sequestered himself, and Manon shoots him a dubious glance. Then she does a double take back in Lucas’ direction.

“The _doctor_?” She practically shrieks it and Lucas cringes, realising he’d forgotten that her and Mika had no idea about his appointment. A second later Mika is popping his head around the door to see what the commotion is about. The peg on his nose ruins the concerned aesthetic a little and Lucas lets his head thunk back down onto the pillow for a solid second of ceiling-staring before he props himself up on his elbows.

“Can we talk about this later?” Lucas glares at them all. “I’m kind of… you know. Going through something here. Could do with some privacy.” Mika blanches and vanishes again, likely off to pretend this wasn’t happening in the safety of his room.

“Alright. Fine. But we _will_ talk.” Manon narrows her eyes at him. “By the looks of it, you’ve skipped the initial phase, with the cravings, cramps and general,” she pauses here and winces at Yann who looks so awkward but endearingly determined, paying attention to her every word. “The, ah, increased… neediness.”

_Let me die,_ Lucas prays. God, if he exists, is not sympathetic to Lucas’ cause though, because he remains alive and unhappily aware of his surroundings.

“But this doesn’t look like phase two either, since you’re not napping all over the place. You feel sleepy?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ sound aggressively. He wants to ask Yann to leave, because wow this is awkward, but he doesn’t want Eliott to be the only alpha in the room yet, and he doesn’t know if he can bare asking Eliott to go too.

“Right, so no phase one or two. The third and final phase is generally day two or three depending on how long the heat lasts,” she says this last bit to Yann and Eliott, a frustratingly upbeat documentary in human form.

“What happens in phase three?” Lucas asks and they all turn to stare at him.

“I thought you knew all this stuff?” Yann has his ‘i’m not angry, i’m disappointed,’ face on.

“I know how _my_ heats work, I didn’t really pay attention to the phase layout when I was pretending to be a beta. I just sort of. You know. Let them play out.”

“Phase three is the sex stuff.” Manon says bluntly. “The physiological reactions to go along with the emotional drive for comfort, touch and intimacy.” Lucas winces, unable to avoid the way his eyes dart to Eliott.

Eliott who is still in the corner, still watching every move Lucas makes and holding himself so still against the wall that if Lucas didn’t know better he’d think he was carved from marble. He certainly has the bone structure for it.

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas rubs his face with both hands. “Should have guessed that. I’m not sure if-”

His body jolts without his permission and the gasp he lets out is nowhere near as pg-13 as he wishes it were.

“Here we go!” Manon stands hurriedly. “Everything you need is in that bag, including protection if you want it. Am I kicking everyone out or? You kind of need someone here for at least long enough to see to your hand. I could stay, if you want, or one of the others?”

Lucas can’t answer at first. The heat had been laying low, coiled and simmering through his body, but now it rages in his hips, his thighs, spreading in syrupy waves. Yann makes an aborted move towards him, and from what Lucas can see it looks like he’s trying not to inhale, which is a smart move, but Eliott must wrongly interpret the way Yann reaches for him because he launches forward and uses his body as a battering ram to shove Yann out of the room.

His best friend catches himself on the door frame, snarling at Eliott with enough force that the other alpha backs off a little, though he’s still planted between Yann and Lucas. Yann meets Eliott’s eyes but when he speaks it is to Lucas.

“Do you want him here?”

What a loaded fucking question. The answer is a resounding no. It is. But when he thinks about Eliott leaving, about being alone in this room with the scent of Eliott still on his sheets, on his clothes, he thinks he might actually die. He nods, miserable. “It hurts less when he’s close.”

Yann looks past Eliott now, to the bed, but this time he _is_ talking to Eliott. “You aren’t having sex with him.” Eliott looks taken aback, and he opens his mouth to speak but Yann barrels past him. “I don’t care if there’s condoms provided, I don’t care if he begs for it, although I know him well enough to know that that isn’t going to happen. I don’t know what went down tonight but you upset him badly enough that you kick started a heat that shouldn’t have happened yet, and it put him in danger. Think about that. Really think about it. The only reason I’m letting you stay in here with him is because Lucas seems to think it’s better if you’re here, and I care more about what he thinks than I do about alpha posturing.”

“I wouldn’t touch him anyway.” Eliott says, and _wow_ that stings a bit. Lucas must make some kind of choked off noise because Eliott hurries to continue. “I mean, not like this. I would never have sex with someone who couldn’t fully consent to it.” Yann studies his face for a moment while Lucas squirms awkwardly on the bed. He’s never going to live this down.

“Alright,” Yann finally nods, satisfied. “I’ll be spending tonight on the couch though, so don’t think just because I’m not in the room I won’t be able to tell what’s happening.”

“Yann that’s kind of creepy and voyeuristic,” Manon tells him on her way out of the room, ducking under their arms.

“No it’s not.” Yann says, faux cheerful. “Because they won’t be having sex. So no voyeuring needed.”

He lets go of the door frame and steps back, eyes still on Eliott as Eliott shuts the door in his face and leaves the two of them in awkward almost-silence. He can hear Manon dragging Yann away, the sound of their bickering is quieter than the blood pounding in his ears though, so he can’t tell what they’re saying.

He locks eyes with Eliott as he turns away from the door to face Lucas.

Fantastic. Just _fantastic_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warnings: use of slurs, reference to sex without consent but absolutely NO actual sex or sexual touching.
> 
> \---- NO WARNINGS JUST SPOILERS PAST THIS ---
> 
> SEE im not so evil after all! for the most part anyway lmao. honestly this is how i wanted it to go down in canon. i really really wanted Eliott to see him and go after him but NOPE. this is why fanfic exists however so here we are! 
> 
> the response to the last chapter blew me away, thank you all <3 I'd love to hear what you think of this chapter.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first thing Eliott does is bandage his hand.

The first thing Eliott does is bandage his hand. He sits through it in mutinous silence, watching Eliott’s careful fingers dab the antiseptic wipes along the open wounds on his knuckles. Every time Eliott’s skin brushes against his Lucas can feel it like a static wave from his hand down to his toes, electric and alive. He keeps his gaze firmly locked down, refusing to look at Eliott’s face, and Eliott does him the courtesy of not trying to start a conversation yet.

The second thing Eliott does is coax Lucas into draining a bottle and a half of water and taking the painkillers. He refuses to eat though, and Eliott gives up eventually. He does, however, manage to get Lucas to roll over onto one side of the bed while he lays out the cooling mat, and when Lucas shuffles back onto it he can feel the relief instantly. The combination of that and the painkillers leaves Lucas in a much better mood, still uncomfortable and sweating and dripping from other places, but it’s an improvement on a situation Lucas didn’t think  _ could _ improve. It helps that it’s just them now, too. At the time Yann had been a very much needed, and heavily appreciated, barrier, but the amalgamation of different scents had been driving him up the wall before the end of it. 

His mind and body don’t agree 100% about anything, but his body wants Eliott here enough that it overpowers the doubt in his mind. As much as Lucas wants to push him out of the window for starting this whole mess in the first place, he also likes knowing that Eliott chose to run after him, even if it was only pity and hormones that fuelled the decision. He is vindictive in the knowledge that Lucille is somewhere in the city and there is no Eliott at her side. 

Lucas is still sprawled out, fully dressed, and Eliott is perched precariously on the edge of the bed, as far away as he can possibly be and still be able to reach Lucas’ hand. When Eliott is done he shuffles even further back, until he’s at the bottom of the bed with his legs crossed. That annoying voice at the back of Lucas’ brain protests the distance, but not strongly enough that Lucas feels the need to speak it out loud. He’s still cramping a little, even with the painkillers, but it’s manageable. 

“What do you need?” Eliott asks, attempting to bridge the unhappy chasm between them. 

“More blankets.” Eliott looks around the room. “They’re under the bed, in the storage crate.” Eliott slides onto his knees-- and boy does that send Lucas’ brain to a dirty, dirty place-- and reaches under the bed to drag out the old plastic container that Lucas had shoved the majority of his heat supplies into after washing them the last time. He drags the blankets out, does a double take at the small handful of sex toys pressed shamefully into one corner, and swallows hard. Whoops. Lucas had kind of forgotten that in order to get the blankets Eliott would see those too. His brain isn’t exactly working at full capacity at this point. Even if he had remembered though, iit isn’t like he could make do with any other blankets; these ones are made from natural fabric, washed in scentless soap for sensitive skin and, more importantly, the feel of them is familiar, a balm against his irritated nerves. They’ve been a part of his nesting ritual ever since he started having heats, after that first unprepared time.

“Ignore those!” Lucas begs, in reference to the toys. He closes his eyes and covers his face with his hands, hoping that if he can no longer see them that maybe through osmosis Eliott would no longer be able to either. 

“Do you need them--”

“Absolutely not.”

At this point he can’t be certain whether the it’s the mortification or the heat that is flooding his cheeks with pink, but either way he is a tomato. 

Wordlessly, with one last glance at the crate, Eliott heaps the blankets at the foot of the bed. Once he’s finished he stands and comes around to the side that Lucas is laid on. 

“Do you want to change into fresh clothes?” He asks. 

Lucas is desperate to change. He is. But the idea of getting naked around Eliott is way too much right now. He shrugs helplessly and sniffles. Oh fuck. He’s actually tearing up over his indecision on  _ clothes.  _

_ Fucking hormones. _

“Oh! Oh hey no!” Eliott’s eyes widen into the size of dinner plates. “Lucas, baby, please don’t cry.”

“Don’t call me that!” A stray tear works it’s way free when he blinks angrily in Eliott’s direction. 

“I thought--” Eliott hesitates. “I thought you liked it.”

“That was before I caught you kissing Lucille! It was only like an hour ago, don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten! I’m sure she’ll be thrilled about that.” He rolls over on the cool pad, so his back is to Eliott, but having the alpha out of his range of vision sends stabs of panic through his gut; w _ hat if he leaves while I’m not watching _ , and he ends up turning back around with a huff before a full minute has passed. Eliott is wringing his hands together, staring down at him. 

“I’m sorry.” Eliott says desperately. “I can’t even express how sorry I am. Sorry that I left you to go to the doctors on your own, sorry that I kissed Lucille, sorry that it triggered this.” He’s looking at Lucas with those big blue eyes of his and Lucas can feel some of the ice around his heart melting a little. But it’s thick stuff. It’s survived the onset of his heat and it will survive this. 

“It doesn't matter. You still did it. I thought you’d chosen  _ me.  _ You said you wanted time, I assumed that was time to think, not time to make out with your ex girlfriend.”

“I did. I did, I promise you.” Eliott takes a step closer. He kneels so that their faces are level and probably too close, given the situation. “And I swear that was the only time we kissed. I  _ swear _ .”

“So what changed then? Was it finding out that I’m an omega? Finding out about the pills? Was it me talking about my mother? Are you afraid I’m going to turn out like her?” Eliott closes his eyes and shakes his head to every option Lucas can think to offer. His lips are turned down at the edges and the skin around his eyes is tight with tension. The ache in Lucas’ stomach is no longer just heat related. He wants to hug Eliott, just because he’s here, and sad and  _ Eliott _ . Not because of his heat. But his heat is the only reason Eliott is here, so he refrains. “Was any of it real? Any of it whatsoever?” 

“It wasn’t any of those things. I just--” He runs a hand through his messy hair and sighs. “And yes, God, of course it’s real. What I feel for you is more than what I’ve ever felt for anyone and it scared me. I thought maybe you didn’t want something serious. I still think that you’re not ready to be in a relationship with me.”

“So wait,” Lucas frowns. “You’re saying that everything you’ve done, everything we’ve done together, that was all real for you? You just left me because you were scared that, what,  _ i’d _ leave  _ you _ ? That’s some fucking beautiful logic there, Eliott.”

“Yeah.” Eliott says, miserable, with a desolate little laugh. “I’m an idiot. I’m aware.”

“Help me get changed, okay?” Eliott blinks at him at the abrupt subject change. “I’m sat here stewing in my own juices, quite literally, Eliott. This isn’t a conversation I want to be having like this, or during a heat at all actually but since I have no option on that part the least I can do is get comfortable. Or as comfortable as possible. We probably have another hour or so before things get bad again anyway, might as well use it.” Heats work in waves, although he can’t be sure this one will take the same form since it started so suddenly. Usually, in what is apparently phase three, his slick production increases, his pheromones double and he starts with the annoying horniness. This atmosphere between them isn’t conductive to the latter, thankfully. And taking his clothes off while Eliott looks miserable is perhaps the only way he’s going to be able to put more on again at the end of it. When Eliott looks like this Lucas doesn’t want to jump his bones so much as he wants to hug them. 

It’s in the next part of phase three that things will increase again. He’ll be almost desperate for touch, whatever form that takes, he’ll be whiny again, and less able to vocalise his thoughts. Lucas doesn’t want to think about that right now though, when he has the capacity to use his brain.

“Yeah, okay.” Eliott swallows hard. “How do you want to do this?”

“With as little touching as possible.” Lucas tries to joke but it falls flat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. This isn’t your fault.”

They work quickly to strip Lucas of everything. Eliott turns his back to give him some privacy and let Lucas take his own briefs off, but other than that it is Eliott who helps him through every movement. When Lucas is in a fresh pair of underwear he turns around again. His fists are clenched at his side and Lucas watches as he puts effort into unpeeling them in order to grab some comfortable clothes. The briefs that Lucas had been wearing are thrown into the corner of the room while Eliott is busy at the chest of draws, looking for a soft sleep shirt, but Lucas miscalculates and they land only a few feet away from Eliott.

“Sorry,” Lucas mutters quietly, eyes locked on the way Eliott’s entire body stiffens, the way he turns his head just slightly towards the fabric. It is saturated with Lucas’ scent, with pheromones and slick, and if Lucas thought he was embarrassed before… 

“It’s fine.” Eliott chokes out, turning back to his task with a tight set to his shoulders. When he comes back to the bed his eyes are back to the way they had been in the street, liquid and black and locked onto Lucas’ every move. He helps him dress in stilted silence but Lucas doesn’t miss the way that his eyes dart back the the briefs whenever he thinks Lucas isn’t paying attention. 

It warms something primal inside of him, something that had already been heated but not quite burning. It sends lava that had begun to cool into igneous rock back into a magma state. He swallows past the lump in his throat and lays back onto the cooling pad, desperate for the relief it had provided before. It doesn’t seem to make a difference now, though. Lucas wonders if it’s to do with the change of mood. 

Eliott stands in the middle of the room again, hugging himself and looking awkward and perfect and beautiful. Lucas aches for him. 

“I don’t really know what we do now.” Eliott admits.

“Me neither. I haven't’ exactly done this before with someone else in the room. I could use a distraction though, if you want to finish that talk?”

Eliott nods, but doesn’t move. Lucas sighs and sits up. The pad wasn’t doing its job anyway. He pats the bed next to him and finally Eliott comes closer, allows himself to sit across from Lucas. 

“Why didn’t you just ask me what I wanted instead of assuming?” Lucas asks.

“I don’t know. No. That’s a lie.” Eliott breathes out deeply. “But I’m not ready to talk about it yet. Like how you weren’t ready to talk about being an omega at first. I didn’t push you then, can you do me the same favour?” His voice is rough and he won’t quite meet Lucas’ eyes.

“Of course.” Lucas says, after a slight pause. “So just to be clear, this something that we aren’t going to be talking about yet, this is what made you pull away? And what made you kiss Lucille?”

“Yeah.” He says, looking down at where his fingers are playing with the frayed rip in the knee of his jeans. “Well. No, I let Lucille kiss me because I was sad, and feeling lonely, and I missed you. I thought maybe if I tried to go back to how things were before I would feel better, but it felt wrong from the moment she touched me.”

“Okay…”

“You have to understand that Lucille knows me better than almost anyone. She knows what I’m like when I panic, and when I get overwhelmed. She knows exactly what to say to me.”

“Are you saying she took advantage of you?” Lucas’ back straightens and he can feel his chest puff out indignantly. 

“No.” Eliott smiles at him, just a little upturn of the lips, but it sends Lucas’ heart fluttering. “I’m saying she thought she was doing the right thing. But that’s getting into the bit that I can’t really talk about yet.”

“Right.” Lucas’ mouth twists and he looks down, deflating. His brain is a mess of a maze, trying to work through the clues that he has already, then trying  _ not  _ to, to preserve Eliott’s right to privacy. According to Eliott he still doesn’t care that Lucas is an omega, he doesn’t care about Lucas’ mother, or rather he doesn’t worry that Lucas will end up like her and he’ll have to deal with the fallout. Lucas tries to hammer these pieces of information into his brain as facts, but the hammer doesn’t hit quite right.

“You don’t believe me,” Eliott whispers, stricken, and Lucas’ head snaps up. He’s staring at Lucas in something too similar to horror. “I’ve ruined everything.” 

“You haven’t.” Lucas says quickly. “It’s just. I’d kind of convinced myself you were just stringing me along, or that I was too much of a hassle for you to deal with. It’s hard to try and make myself let those feelings go.” 

“I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I thought what I was doing was for the best, but when I saw you at that party, when I smelled your hurt and your anger I knew I’d made a mistake, but it was too late to go back and fix it. I chased after you in the hopes that I could explain, only you were starting a heat and, well, here we are I guess.”

“So…” Lucas frowns and bites at his bottom lip, picking at the dry skin with his teeth. “So I wasn’t in heat yet when I saw you and Lucille?”

“Not that I could smell. I think it must have started straight after, with the, ah, stress.”

So that means that Eliott didn’t chase after him just because of the heat scent. He didn’t follow Lucas because he’s an alpha, he followed him because he’s  _ Eliott. _ Because he cares what Lucas thinks and feels. Lucas bites his lip even harder. So where does he want to go from here? He can’t stand the idea of not being with Eliott, and even though things aren’t fixed between them, and Lucas is still incredibly annoyed, he tries to force himself to see things from the other side. Lucas and Eliott had been dancing around each other while Lucille and Eliott were still together. This isn’t a situation in which he can take the moral high ground. Eliott has kissed Lucas way more than once, while Lucille was still his girlfriend, and Lucas  _ had  _ dumped a lot of information on him the other day. 

His brain is already hurting though, and his body still aches, and he’s sad and emotional, and there’s really only one thing he wants.  _ And it isn’t sex,  _ he tells his brain firmly.  _ No sex _ . He shuffles around on the bed until he’s laid close to the edge, with space at his back. He glances at Eliott, who is watching him carefully. “The heat makes me want physical contact.” He says, and Eliott’s eyes widen with hope. “But honestly, even without that, I could really use a hug right now.” Eliott scrambles to his hands and knees and crawls awkwardly over Lucas’ legs to deposit himself behind Lucas. 

He hesitates for long enough that Lucas rolls his eyes, reaching backwards without looking and yanking at Eliott’s sleeve until he wraps an arm over Lucas’ chest. He presses his hand to Lucas’ heart without any input from Lucas, and Lucas feels warmth flood his system again. They take a minute to get comfortable, shifting together. Lucas can feel that Eliott is hard against his ass, but it doesn’t bother him. It’s a physiological reaction and Lucas is having enough of those to know that sometimes there’s no controlling, only ignoring. 

Eliott presses his face into the back of Lucas’ neck, and Lucas lets out a soft gasp when his nose brushes Lucas’ scent gland. It’s especially sensitive during his heat and the shivers it sends down his spine would be strong enough to physically jolt him across the bed if it weren’t for Eliott’s hold on him.

“Is this okay?” Eliott murmurs, nuzzling at his neck. He presses a leg between Lucas’ from behind so that they’re completely entwined. 

“Yeah.” Lucas breathes in deeply, then exhales a ragged gasp. “Yeah. It’s perfect.” 

Then, “wait, no. We forgot the blankets,” and Eliott props himself up on his elbow for long enough to hook a foot into the pile of material and drag it closer enough to grab at. He takes each blanket and drapes it either around Lucas or in the space either side of him. When he tries to put one between them Lucas makes a noise of protest. “You need to be in the nest too.” Eliott smiles softly at him and rolls the blanket up so it matches the length of them, a huge blanket burrito, and shoves it behind him so he can lean against it when Lucas leans against him.

“Alright.” Lucas murmurs with a content little sigh. “Now it’s perfect.” Eliott settles back against him, pulling Lucas with gentle, gentle hands until his face is pressed into the fluff of Lucas’ hair and one arm is under Lucas’ head to act as a pillow. He strokes a hand down Lucas’ flank, pressing into the material between them and tugging one of the many blankets up a little higher so it covers them both up to Lucas’ chin. It’s perhaps a little too hot but neither of them cares. They’re both there, and safe, and just for now, in this moment, it really is perfect. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen mecs. im a bit of a sad mess. i really dont know what to do with myself now that season 3 is done are we arent going to be able to see lucas' pov again. as i type this i am literally tearing up a lil if you can believe!! so i hope the end of this chapter helped a little if anyone else is feeling sad! in another world lucas kicked eliott out and eliott left him his signature jacket and lucas spent his entire heat crying into it like a sad little fucker. 
> 
> anyhow. that didnt happen. thats a different universe, and even there lucas and eliott will end up together, like they do in every universe. even there. but this is this universe and lucas is sad and uncomfortable and he needed cuddles, so i hope you dont find it too much of a jump from how he felt in the start of the chapter!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas lasts an hour in that position, with Eliott wrapped around him like a beautiful octopus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when i was editing this chapter i listened to "love has no limits" by fleurie on repeat, if anyone likes a soundtrack.

Lucas lasts an hour in that position, with Eliott wrapped around him like a beautiful octopus. He can feel the heat building again over that time, but he pays it as little attention as is possible, content in the moment with Eliott’s sweet scent and his soft touch.

Eventually though, it gets to the point where he can’t ignore it anymore. He rolls over in Eliott’s hold and presses his mouth to the hollow of Eliott’s throat. He wants so badly to kiss him, to press their bodies together in one writhing tangle of naked limbs, but he can’t quite separate where that want originates as a thought in his own brain and where it finishes in his heat instincts, and so he pushes it away. Tries to content himself with the thick, aroused scent that Eliott is seeping into the room and the way they fit together even with their clothes on.

Eliott’s fingers dig into the cloth on Lucas’ back and he makes a frustrated noise into Lucas’ hair, where he’s pressed his own face.

“I hate this,” Lucas mutters. Being so close to Eliott, being allowed to touch but not touch too much? It’s killing him.

“Hmm?”

“I just want you to fuck me.”

Eliott chokes on his own breath and spends the next minute hacking up a lung. Lucas’ heat addled brain finds it stupidly attractive.

“But at the same time, as unlikely as it is, I know that that could just be a thought my heat is making me think.”

There’s something to be said for the way the last phase of his heat makes him shameless and extremely open with his thoughts. Later, Lucas is sure he’ll find room to be embarrassed about this on top of everything else he has to feel mortified by, but for now he’s serene and quite willing to talk about how much he wants Eliott.

“Right.” Eliott still sounds like he’s being strangled.

“And also, even if that weren’t the case, there’s Prison Warden Yann outside.”

“Uh huh.”

“Sorry. I’m making this harder.” _Literally._

“No, no, it’s fine!” Eliott lies and Lucas laughs softly into his chest, pressing his mouth to the fabric and resisting the urge to _bite_ at it and tear it off with his teeth.

Fifteen minutes later and he’s panting again, shivering in soft little bursts that shake his entire body against the bed. He tosses and turns with quiet, unhappy noises and Eliott is helpless to do anything but watch. In the short intervals where Lucas is still he runs his fingers over his scent gland, down his back, up his sides, anywhere he has access to, to try to calm the both of them through physical contact.

Time starts passing in weird chunks, and he’s pretty sure he’s losing minutes at one point. He closes his eyes on a blink, facing one direction, and when he opens them he’s in a completely different position. But Eliott is still there, a constant through it all, and so Lucas isn’t scared.

He manages small naps when the heat isn’t so bad, and presses himself bodily against Eliott when it is. They’re both hard almost constantly, but neither of them makes a move to do anything about it, although at one point Lucas realises he’s been subtly rutting against Eliott’s thigh and he half throws himself onto his other side, so that his back is to Eliott again.

When dawn arrives to bathe the room in fragile light, Lucas is a mess. He has had to change clothes twice through the night, with Eliott’s help, and when it had gotten really bad they’d laid an extra mattress protector down so that Lucas could nap without worrying about ruining the bed. He slept fitfully, and every time he woke Eliott was there, keeping watch and ready with another bottle of water and an energy bar that Lucas continued to refuse to eat.

Now, as he blinks awake, it is to the stunning sight of Eliott asleep, for once. They’re laid facing each other, both of them covered in blankets despite the heat resonating from Lucas, and Eliott’s naturally high body temperature. His lips are just about parted and Lucas can feel his faint breath against Lucas’ cheek. The worst of the heat seems to have passed and he doesn’t really need to take more painkillers, so he lets himself stay in this moment for as long as Eliott’s weird sleep schedule will allow.

The light that filters in through the curtains is soft, and where it hits Eliott’s skin it leaves a glow that is angelic. Lucas presses closer as gently as he can, until he is close enough to count the eyelashes that brush Eliott’s cheek, close enough to make note of the stubble on his chin, just starting to grow through from a clean shave. Eliott is beautiful. Every hair follicle, every skin cell, every atom. Lucas remembers hearing somewhere that everything in the universe-- possibly in all universes-- is made of stardust. Once upon a time he had dismissed it, not as untrue but as a romanticised notion; over dramatic and silly. But here, now, with Eliott by his side, Lucas knows he was wrong. Eliott could be made of nothing less than the stuff of stars. He exudes light.

Eliott shifts against him, like Lucas’ gaze is a physical weight on his body. He grunts and raises a hand to rub at his eyes, which are still closed, and inhales deeply. Whatever he smells sends him shooting up in bed with a yelp.

“Oh!”

“Eliott?” Lucas pushes himself up so they’re on the same level and stares at him. He is caught between concern and the helpless urge to laugh. Every hair on Eliott’s head is stuck up at a different angle. There is bed hair, and then there is _this_. It’s on a whole other level, possibly defying the laws of gravity.

“Yeah, _fuck_. Sorry.” Eliott presses his hands to his own pink-stained cheeks and shakes his head. “I thought I had dreamed all of this, so I was just a bit caught off guard when you were the first thing I could smell.”

“Do you regularly dream about me?” Lucas teases, grinning.

“Yes.” There is a pause, a rock knocked loose from a cliff-side, prepared to tumble into the arms of a waiting ocean. “Always.”

Even though Eliott has only been awake for seconds the air between them is already heating up, but this time it’s less to do with Lucas’ heat, which is almost over, and more to do with their natural chemistry. Lucas is done. So done. He gets to his knees and deposits himself in Eliott’s lap without another word. They’re nose to nose, chests pressed together, Lucas’ thighs and ass snug against the top of Eliott’s thighs.

“Lucas--” Eliott’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his head. “We can’t. Your heat-”

“Is practically over.”

“It’s only been like twelve hours, there’s no way-”

“The doctor said that they might be longer or shorter than usual.” He presses a kiss to the corner of Eliott’s mouth, gives the skin there a little kitten lick until Eliott is as shivery as Lucas had been during his heat.

“Fuck,” Eliott gasps, turning his head to the side, away from Lucas as Lucas makes his way down Eliott’s throat, planting tiny kisses every inch or so and watching them bloom in a rose red blush. “No. I wouldn’t feel right. It’s too soon.”

Lucas pulls back, disappointed. He can’t deny it’s sweet though, that it leaves him feeling a little breathless to know that Eliott cares more about Lucas than the potential of sex, especially considering the pheromones that still hang heavy in the unaired room. It’s been hard enough for him, with Eliott’s alpha scent saturating everything he touches or breathes on. He can’t imagine what it’s been like for Eliott with the heat scent doing the same.

“You have no idea how much this is killing me,” Eliott tells him, eyes closed like just the act of seeing Lucas would be enough to change his mind. “But you were in a super vulnerable place just a few hours ago, and this doesn’t feel like consent on your part.” Lucas shuffles back so they’re only touching where he’s sat on Eliott’s knees, which can’t be comfortable. He tries to lift himself off entirely but Eliott catches him by the hips and holds him steady. He’s looking at Lucas again now, worry creasing the skin around his eyes. “Please tell me you understand.”

“I understand,” Lucas says. “And besides, even if I don’t agree, even if I’m 99% sure that my heat is over and this is what I want, I once told you that we’d never do anything that we weren’t both into, and your consent is just as important as mine. So, it’s fine. Really. I’m sorry for pushing.” He smiles, kissing a fingertip and then dragging it down Eliott’s cheek, his nail catching gently on the stubble there.

“Lucas,” Eliott groans and the sound zings through Lucas’ bloodstream. “You’re making it so hard to be a good person.” Lucas glances down at his own sweatpants where the outline of his erection is clear.

“Tell me about it,” he quips.

Eliott lets him climb off then, and lays back into the nest of blankets and pillows, watching as Lucas stretches all the kinks out of his body. His muscles scream their protest at him, and Lucas winces, making a low pained sound that has Eliott jackknifing up off the bed again.

“I’m fine,” Lucas snorts, waving him off. “Calm down.” He examines the bandages around his knuckles, noting where they’ve started to come loose. “I’m going to grab a shower and get changed again, and then if you could maybe change this for me?”

“Sure, yeah.”

His legs feel sore even though he hasn’t really used them for past however many hours, and his back is killing him. Yann is asleep on the couch when Lucas passes on his way to the bathroom, and Lucas pauses for a moment to drag Yann’s blanket up from where it has half fallen off the edge of the couch. The shower, when he steps under it, is a blessing. Lucas would sell a kidney right here and now if someone were to come in and tell him it was either that or get out from under the glorious muscle-melting spray.

He cleans himself thoroughly, _very_ thoroughly, and palms his erection for a considering moment before deciding it would be in everyone’s best interest for him to get rid of it in the good old fashioned way; solo.

When he leaves the bathroom, clean and dry and relaxed, if still a little sore, he feels like a new person. It’s still only early, so Yann is still asleep and neither Mika nor Manon have come out of their rooms yet. Lucas makes his way back into his own bedroom, where Eliott is texting on his phone, and pauses in the doorway.

“Lucille?” He asks, a little annoyed both with the idea and with himself, for the panicked, paranoid tone his voice has taken on in just that one word.

“No, my parents. They’re going to be in town in two weeks time, they’re just checking I’ll be free.”

“Oh.”

“Lucille and I aren’t back together,” Eliott reassures him, tucking the phone away in his pocket. “I told you that last night.”

“Some things are a little hazy.” They aren’t, for the most part, but it’s as good an excuse as any for his blatant jealousy.

“If you have any questions, i’m an open book.”

“Are we boyfriends?” Was that too juvenile? Too much? Too soon? It has to be too soon. Right? It was only half a week ago that Eliott was pushing him away, and only last night that Lucas had been so sure that nothing would ever happen between them ever again, and yet here he is. Declaring boyfriendhood.

Eliott beams at him though, and Lucas feels his insecurity take a back seat.

“We can be boyfriends, if that’s what you want.”

“Is it what you want, though?”

“I want anything that allows me to keep you in my life for as long as possible,” Eliott’s smile dims a little then, and Lucas has no idea what the reason behind it is, but he wants to wipe this sadness from the face of Eliott’s world, and so he crosses the room and sits next to him on the bed. He offers his hand, palm up, and Eliott carefully takes it, locking their fingers together. “I would be honoured to be your boyfriend.”

“Okay.” Lucas says, blushing a little, which in itself is incredible to think about; that Eliott agreeing to be his boyfriend can have such an impact on him after everything they’ve been through and blushed over in the past twelve hours. “Boyfriends then.”

How do boyfriends act? What do boyfriends do? Lucas wonders if there’s some kind of rule book or how-to guide he can look up on the internet. Despite the moments they’ve shared since they met Lucas doesn’t feel like he knows any more about relationships than he did at the start.

“Do you have some clothes I can borrow? Everything I’m wearing smells like your heat, which, don’t get me wrong-- A+ on the scent game there, but it’s a little distracting.”

“Sure!” Lucas pushes himself up off the bed, ignoring the sad little wobble in his chest when he’s forced to let go of Eliott’s hand, and goes to riffle through his clothes. He settles on a shirt a size too big for him, bought by accident, and a pair of his loosest sweats. “I don’t think my underwear will fit.” He confesses. “I could ask Mika, but--”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Eliott shoots him an amused glance, mouth quirking up in one corner. “I’ll go commando.”

Lucas ducks his head to hide his smile. He would have asked, if Eliott had wanted, but he can’t deny the relief that his boyfriend won’t be smelling like Mika’s boxers. He turns away so Eliott can change in peace and without the risk of Lucas’ eyes roaming his body. It’s not like he hasn’t seen most of it before, but with the way things are between them at the minute, so tense and on edge with sexual tension, he doesn’t want to risk it.

“I’ll shove these in the corner with yours. We can wash them later.” He says when Eliott is done changing and has handed Lucas’ his clothes. They stare at each other across the space between them, and slowly the atmosphere changes and some of the lightness escapes from where it had found its way into Lucas’ chest. His heat is over, now it’s time to return to reality.

“Thanks,” Eliott says eventually. “I guess we still have some things to talk about? Conversations to finish?” Lucas swallows, mouth dry.

“Which conversation exactly?” He arcs an eyebrow, trying for nonchalance. “Last nights or this mornings?”

“Last nights _and_ this mornings, I guess. About Lucille, mostly. I noticed this morning that you’re still a bit…”

“Paranoid?” Lucas supplies with a short, snappy laugh. “That will happen when a guy catches the guy he likes making out with his ex.” He says it lightly enough but there is a bite to his words that Eliott would be an idiot to miss.

“Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry.” Eliott rubs his hands down the front of his shirt, smoothing the already perfectly smooth fabric.

“I think it’s just going to take a little while, is all.” Lucas tells him, softer now and a little guilty although he knows he has the right to be angry still-- it did only just happen last night. “We need to start again. Fresh ground. Where you’re not connected to Lucille anymore and we’re not sneaking around on someone you care about.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” They share a small smile and Lucas feels something relax in his chest, something he hadn’t even noticed was tight with tension. “Does Lucille know that you’re with me?”

“I think she probably guessed when I ran after you, yeah. I haven’t contacted her since last night though. She’s messaged me a few times but I’ve ignored them.”

“Alright.” Lucas ponders this. “If you’re comfortable with it, and if we’re really going to give this a shot, I’d appreciate you texting her to tell her again that you guys are over. And this isn’t just for my sake, or yours. It’s not fair to her either, to cheat on her, break up with her and then kiss her again even if it was her who initiated it last night.” Lucas knows in his heart that if he were Lucille he’d be trying to hang on with all ten fingers and possibly his toes, too.

“I can do that,” Eliott agrees, pulling out his phone again and playing with its case with his long fingers while they talk.

“And I know you don’t want to tell me the reason that this happened-- whatever secret it is that you’re keeping that made you think I don’t want something serious-- so I’m not going to ask about it,” Lucas says, averting his eyes. “But i’m here to talk when you’re ready.” He won’t admit it out loud but it’s nagging at the back of his mind. He has given Eliott every secret that he owns, one by one. There’s nothing important or vulnerable left of him that Eliott hasn’t seen, as far as Lucas is concerned. But at the end of the day Eliott is right. He didn’t push when Lucas wasn’t ready to talk about being an omega, even though Eliott knew something wasn’t adding up, and the least Lucas can do is give him the same courtesy.

 

After a little more arguing over whether Lucas is done with his heat or not, (a fight which Lucas wins, thank you very much), and the re-bandaging of his hand (complete with a kiss to his damaged knuckles that is so feather soft that Lucas can’t _breathe_ for a second), Lucas leaves a note on the kitchen counter and they go out for breakfast. In part it’s a ploy to avoid his flatmates and friends since he doesn’t know if he can ever be in a room with them again without blushing. But he and Eliott still have a lot to work through and they need privacy, not thin walls, to do it.

They stop by a little cafe to buy breakfast; hot chocolate and croissants, and then make their way over to a park bench overlooking a fountain. The park itself is beautiful, it isn’t too cold or too warm, the sun is shining but not at the point where they have to shield their eyes, and best of all there’s no one else around at this time on a Saturday morning, so Lucas feels free to talk without having to constantly wonder if someone will overhear and judge him.

Lucas tells Eliott about the doctor's appointment. They’re sat opposite of each other, sideways on the bench, and their hands are clasped between them. He can feel it every time Eliott tenses; when Lucas tells him about the mortality rate, when he talks about the possibility of permanent damage, and when he describes the panic attack.

“I hate that I wasn’t there with you,” Eliott’s jaw is clenched so tight it’s a wonder he get get any words out. “And I hate it even more because it’s my own fault. I should have said yes, screw whatever was going on in my head.”

“You had your reasons, whatever they were,” Lucas shrugs it off. “I forgive you, for what it’s worth.” He looks around them, takes a moment to breathe in the clean, fresh air, to listen to the birds in the trees and the gurgle of the fountain. “I owe you a lot.” He finally says, and just saying the words aloud is enough to bring him to the edge of grateful tears.

“What? You don’t.”

“I do. I really do. If it hadn’t been for you I don’t know if I would have been able to tell Manon so easily, or if i’d have ever gone to see Dr. Harding. You’ve had such an impact on my life.” He blinks rapidly and clears his throat with a sharp cough, startling a small bird who had been watching them curiously from the space underneath the bench.

He looks over at Eliott with damp eyes and a smile so wild and free that it feels like it’s going to grow wings and fly off of his face to launch itself at Eliott.

“I think you’d have found the courage,” Eliott strokes his thumb over Lucas’ wrist with one hand and uses the other to brush his fingertips against the single tear that has marked a path down Lucas’ cheek. “You’re the bravest person I know.”

“No!” Lucas laughs, a startled, gloriously happy sound. “Now you’re just lying.”

“I’m not.” Eliott is serious, so serious, staring into Lucas’ eyes like he expects to find the universe within them. “I can prove it.”

“Go on then!”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” No hesitation.

“There you go then,” Eliott says, still serious. Lucas can’t help but shiver with the intensity of the way Eliott is looking at him.  “Bravest. Person. I know. Just a couple weeks ago that question would have sent you into panic mode. Just a few days ago even, you’d have been looking for escape routes or checking to see who was around. You were so scared and using any chance to hide yourself that you could get. Now look at you. You’re out and proud and _beautiful_ and-”

Lucas rolls his eyes and leans over claim the offered kiss, cutting Eliott off from whatever compliment he’d been about to add to the list. They sit there together in the sunshine and the cool morning breeze and trade kisses as soft as butterfly wings. Kisses that build and build until once more there is no space between them, until a passing early morning jogger almost trips over their own feet when they turn mid-jog to look at the two of them on the bench with scandalised eyes.

Eliott and Lucas only stop for long enough to giggle into each other’s mouths, messy and ridiculous, and then they’re back to trading slow, aching kisses. They both taste a little salty; they’re both crying, but sadness has no place in these tears. They are relief, a release.

A promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you guys believe its been like two weeks since i started posting this?? and i've hit over 50k?? im shook tbh. the last time i dedicated myself so wholeheartedly to a writing project was back in university when i wrote my dissertation haha.
> 
> so here we are, in the 15th chapter, and i can tell you the end is in sight. not quite close, but on the horizon. i've done the timeline for this fic and it goes up to about 21/22 chapters, 23 at a push. so if i can continue managing to squeeze out a chapter a day we'll be done in just over a week. i dont know how i feel about that haha, this fic has been a joy to write. and it has been a joy to see all your reactions to it as well. your comments have inspired me, as cheesy as it is, im not sure id have been able to crank out a chapter a day without them haha.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have to return to real life eventually. They can’t spend the rest of the weekend on a park bench, as much as they would like to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note the rating change. idk it this even needs a rating change or not but i guess better safe than sorry?

They have to return to real life eventually. They can’t spend the rest of the weekend on a park bench, as much as they would like to. 

When they get back to the flat Yann has already gone home and so it’s only Mika and Manon who are waiting for them. Lucas hugs them both, taking the opportunity to pinch Mika’s nose in silent protest of his use of a peg the previous night. Eliott heads into the kitchen to make him some coffee and Lucas sits on the sofa between his housemates and fills them in on the events of the past few days.

They’re more frustrated than they are angry, but in it’s own way this is worse. From the beginning they’d both been very clear that they were there whenever he needed them, so he can tell that they’re a little annoyed he didn't ask one, or both, of them to go to the doctors with him. The fact that it was something he had to do by himself will not appease them, and he so doesn’t waste his breath on arguing that point, just nods and listens as they complain. He pretends he’d have made a different choice, if he could go back, even though in his heart he knows he wouldn’t.

Everything feels much clearer and brighter than it had only 24 hours ago. Yann and the boys, Mika and Manon, and of course Eliott. They’re all fully in the loop about his life now. He had thought, at one point, that it would feel stifling to have so many people know who he really is, but it’s kind of the opposite. It feels like he’s been living in a single room with no windows and only one door for the past year, if not longer. Only a little bit of light was ever able to creep through from the crack at the bottom. Now, though, his room houses floor to ceiling windows and he is flooded with sunlight and warmth. Even the door has received an upgrade, less dark wood and more french glass paned.

Eliott sets a cup down on the coffee table coaster by his knee, startling him out of his door-based musing,  and Manon shuffles over to allow him space to sit next to Lucas. They both throw her a grateful smile and Lucas leans over to grab his mug, draining half of it despite how hot it still is, and ignoring the exasperated look Eliott and Mika both throw him when he has to fan his own mouth as a consequence.

“By the way,” Mika is busy typing on his phone when Lucas glances over at him. “Yann says he’s told the boys you’re okay, and that if you don’t call him later to prove that, they’re all coming around to bug you about it tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Lucas laughs, rolling his eyes a little. He leans into Eliott’s side and Eliott wraps a warm arm around his shoulders. Manon and Mika exchange amused glances but Lucas ignores them, his time is better spent nuzzling into Eliott’s shoulder. 

“Do you guys have plans for today?” Manon asks, flipping through the pages of a magazine she’s pulled off of the coffee table.

“Well,” Lucas glances at Eliott, “I was going to suggest we paint the foyer, actually. The school will be empty apart from a couple of Saturday classes.”

“Sounds like a plan to me. I have been getting increasingly annoyed texts from Daphne.” They share an amused look. “She can be pretty vicious when she wants something done.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Mika snorts. They sit in silence for a little while, while Mika plays with his phone and Manon reads her magazine. Lucas and Eliott spend their time trading silly, soft kisses until Lucas decides they either need to leave or get a room.

He pushes himself off of the sofa, offering a hand to Eliott and yanking him up when it is taken. Their bodies collide with a soft bump and Lucas can’t help the way he beams up at Eliott, slinging an arm around his neck so he doesn’t topple over. Their faces inch closer together, until their lips are a hair's breadth apart and Lucas is this close to saying, ‘hey, screw the foyer and screw me!’

“You sure you’re alright to do strenuous activity?” Mika pipes up before they can leave and Lucas pulls away from Eliott to narrow his eyes in his flatmate’s direction. Mika is blinking innocent eyes at the two of them but the smirk on his mouth is anything but. 

“Painting doesn’t take _ that  _ much effort.” Lucas can feel himself walking into a trap, even if he can’t see the trip wire that Mika is setting out. 

“Not the kind of strenuous activity I was talking about.”

“Oh fuck off,” Lucas flushes. 

“Yeah, that’s more like it!” Mika hoots with laughter, half folding over himself in his seat. Manon is hiding a small smirk behind her hand. He can see her cheek twitching with the effort of suppressing it.

Lucas huffs and snatches Eliott’s hand in a tight grip, dragging his boyfriend towards to front door.

“Lucas?” Eliott tugs on their connected palms.

“We’re  _ leaving. _ ”

“Lucas!”

He’s thrown open the door and made it into the hallway before Eliott manages to get his attention for long enough to stop them. He whips around, pouting, and frowns up at where Eliott is snickering at him. 

“Lucas, we’re not even wearing shoes.”

“Oh.” Lucas looks down at their feet, which are indeed shoe-less, and pouts harder. He’s pretty sure the neighbours will be making noise complaints for how hard Mika is cackling from the living room, and even Manon has joined him now. So much for omegas sticking together. “I don’t suppose we could just leave anyway?” He whines, tugging at Eliott’s hand imploringly. Eliott’s teeth are white against the pink of his mouth when he throws his head back and laughs a full, loud belly laugh, and for a moment Lucas is enraptured. He’ll take a thousand stupid jokes from Mika if they all have an end result of  _ this. _

“I think you’d regret that, by the time we got to school.”

“Nu uh,” Lucas denies. “I think i’d walk on glass just to avoid going back in there. Broken glass! From dirty bottles!”

“Well we definitely can’t have that, can we.” Eliott swoops in and before Lucas can do more than screech he has scooped Lucas up into his arms and is setting off towards the elevator. 

“I changed my mind!” Lucas slaps at his chest. “Go back before someone sees us!”

“What happened to being out and proud?”

“What happened to a sense of fucking decency! Eliott go back! I want my shoes!”

“That’s not what you were saying earlier.”

“Eliott!”

They’re at the elevator now and yet Lucas can still hear the laughter that is echoing out of door to the apartment. He’s laughing too, struggling in Eliott’s grasp but not actually trying to get away. His head is thrown back against Eliott’s shoulder and his legs are kicking out from where they’re hung over Eliott’s other forearm. Eliott is looking down at him with something akin to wonder and all Lucas can think is,  _ this is the boy I love. This is the boy I want to spend my life with.  _ He thinks maybe Eliott can see it in his eyes because something in his face softens even further, and while they’re distracted the elevator doors close on them, before Lucas even realises they’ve passed the threshold.

“Oh shit.” They both freeze, eyes wide and fixed on the little light at the top of the door which shows that the elevator is moving down, down, down to the lobby. “Eliott.” Lucas hisses. 

“Not much we can do now,” Eliott hazards, then makes a sound somewhere between a snort and a wheeze when Lucas whacks him in the stomach.

“Put me down at least!” 

But before either of them can do anything else the elevator shudders to a stop and opens on a group of about ten people.

“Oh shit.” Lucas repeats, and then gasps and covers his mouth when he realises that two of the ten are only about four years old. 

“Oh shit!” The little girl repeats, throwing her hands in the air and jumping around in a circle.

“Oh shit!” The little boy agrees, and joins her. 

Eliott makes a noise like he’s been shot and half drops Lucas so he can lunge for the ‘door close’ button. The narrowed eyes of two sets of parents disappear as the elevator shuts and Lucas and Eliott are both left frozen in place. Lucas still has one leg hooked over Eliott’s arm, and one arm around his neck, and luckily Eliott is sturdy enough that he doesn’t topple over at the bad distribution of balance.

“You realise we’re still out here right?” Someone says from the other side of the elevator doors.

“ _ Shit! _ ”

“And we can still hear you!”

“ _ Sorry! _ ”

“Press our floor!  _ Press our floor _ !” Lucas jams his fingers into Eliott’s side, half hopping on the one leg that’s on the floor now, because Eliott isn’t paying enough attention to keeping them steady. “You just closed the door! We aren’t moving!” Eliott panics and runs his hand over the entire switchboard of floor numbers, lighting up every. Single. One.

They both watch in horror as the elevator jolts and begins its slow ascent. Every time the doors open they hope that no one will be staring back. “I forgot which floor we were on!” Eliott mutters, flushed red and wincing when Lucas turns burning eyes in his direction. It is perhaps the most stressful four and a half minutes Lucas has ever experienced, by the time they get to the floor Lucas’ apartment is on. 

They step outside the elevator as quickly as humanly possible and turn to stare at each other, wide eyed. “If you think i’m walking on this disgusting carpet any more than I have to,” Lucas says, faux pleasantly. “You’ve got another thing coming.” Eliott’s lips twitch at the corners as he tries to keep a straight face, bowing slightly and then crouching in front of him so that Lucas can climb onto his back. “Get a move on before they come after us.”

Eliott charges down the hallway at almost full speed, which was not, in fact, Lucas’ intention. Lucas holds on for dear life, ducking his face against the back of Eliott’s neck and accidentally nudging Eliott’s scent gland with his nose. Eliott stumbles and nearly drops Lucas as they skitter into the flat and freeze when they come face to face with Mika and Manon, who are stood just inside the doorway, each with a pair of shoes in their hands. Suspiciously familiar looking shoes. 

Eliott deposits Lucas on the floor as carefully as he is able, considering the effect that Lucas’ accidental touch has had on him. Lucas thinks maybe this is something he’ll be revisiting sooner, rather than later. 

“We were waiting for you to come back,” Manon grins at them. “We didn’t expect you to actually get into the elevator, but when you did we figured you’d not get far.” 

“Fun adventure?” Mika asks, raising an eyebrow. His eyes are fucking twinkling at them, and Lucas wants to say something incredibly smart and cutting but all he can think is ‘oh shit,’ and that phrase has gotten them into enough trouble for one day.

“Nope!” He says.

“Not at all.” Eliott chimes in at the same time. They exchange a conspiratorial look, snatch their shoes from two very startled flatmates, and hightail it out of the apartment again.

This time, they take the stairs. 

 

When they arrive at the school, hand in hand, it’s even quieter than he thought it would be. Everyone who is there is clearly already in class, so they make the trip to the foyer uninterrupted. They’re still giggly from the elevator incident, and when they let themselves into the foyer and shut the door behind them Lucas can’t help but lean back against it and pull Eliott down for a kiss. He uses Eliott’s jacket as an anchor, dragging him down to Lucas’ height so Lucas only has to raise up on his tiptoes a little to meet him halfway.

Eliott presses into him from all angles, tilting his head when their noses clash awkwardly. He bites at Lucas’ lip, tugging it gently with his teeth and then letting go and licking at the tender skin. Lucas takes the opportunity of Eliott’s distraction to reach up and stroke at his scent gland. Eliott’s full body shudder presses them even harder against the wood of the door and Lucas lets out a breathless little sigh.

“If you do that again,” Eliott murmurs into his jaw, setting his teeth into the skin there until Lucas squirms against him. “We won’t get any painting done.”

“Maybe that’s the intention.”

“Maybe Daphne will murder us,” Eliott brushes their noses together, eyes half lidded and soft. 

“Ah,” Lucas whispers, eyes sparkling. “Maybe it will be worth it.”

“Undoubtedly,” Eliott groans and pushes away from him. “But I’ve only just got you back. I’d like to keep you for a little longer before our Romeo and Juliet moment.”

“Oh yeah?” Lucas follows as Eliott makes his way over to the corner of the room, where the paints had been piled when Eliott failed to show up for their Wednesday meeting. He watches Eliott move them closer to the mural and grabs a couple of dust sheets to lay over the floor for protection. “You think we’re worthy of Shakespeare?” 

“Baby, we’re  _ better.  _ We’ll be Shakespeare 2.0. He’ll be rolling in his grave when word of our love story reaches him. He’ll want to climb out and write something new, all about us.” Eliott grins, but it falters quickly. “Sorry. You didn’t want me to call you that anymore. I forgot.”

Lucas purses his lips, tracing at the ridges of his teeth as he toes at one of the dust sheets, eyes on his feet for a considering moment. “I was being dramatic.” He finally settles for. “I like it.”

“So I can continue?” Eliott brightens. “You’ll be my baby?”

“Eliott!” Lucas flushes and cups his hand over his eyes. The longer he looks at Eliott the less he wants to do anything else that, for the rest of his life. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be your baby.”

Eliott swoops in for another lingering kiss to his lips, then his cheeks and his forehead, before he dances away, leaving Lucas a mess of jellyfied human. “You know,” Lucas kneels to start peeling the lids off of the paint tins. “A lot of the plays Shakespeare wrote didn’t have happy endings. He liked tragedies, right?”

“He did,” Eliott acknowledged, joining him by the paint with a tray of brushes. “Tragedies, comedies, romances and histories.”

“So maybe we don’t want to be compared to Shakespeare at all,” Lucas bites at the inside of his cheek, considering. “I don’t want us to be a tragedy.” Even if, at times, they’ve been halfway there already.

“What about one of his comedies? Something a little less Romeo and Juliet?”

“I could handle a comedy, I guess. Your hair is certainly funny enough in the mornings. But why take the risk?”

“Hey,” Eliott points a paintbrush at him. “You leave my hair out of this, little hedgehog.” Lucas sticks his tongue out, then retreats hastily when Eliott takes a swipe at it with the brush. “Who would you compare us to then?” Lucas raises an eyebrow. “If not the great Shakespeare, then who should we try to emulate?” 

“You said it yourself. We’re better, right? We don’t need to be compared to anyone. We’re just us, and who we are is messy, and a little tragic but only sometimes.” Lucas takes a deep breath. “We’re good together, and-- and-”  _ say it _ , he tells himself,  _ just tell him you love him _ . The words aren’t quite ready to push past his teeth though. “And we’re going to have a happy ending. We communicate, for one,” he grins weakly. “Romeo and Juliet had a problem in that area right? It would have all been solved if they’d just talked to each other.” 

“Right,” Eliott laughs. “Communication is key.” He looks a little awkward for a moment and Lucas finds himself hoping that Eliott doesn’t think this is Lucas’ way of trying to guilt him into revealing whatever secrets he’s keeping to himself, because it isn’t. Some things are personal and need time to be revealed, but the basic stuff, the stuff like say, if one of them were to take poison and not tell the other, leading to a lot of extra stress and some self-stabbing. That kind of stuff he’s pretty sure they have a good hold on. 

“So what you’re basically saying, in an incredibly roundabout way, is that we forge our own story, and it’s about us not anyone else, so we’re the ones who get a say in how it ends?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You could have just said that.” Eliott points out. “Without the dramatic literature heavy confession.” Lucas shoves him off balance and laughs when Eliott falls backwards onto his butt. Eliott throws the (thankfully still dry) paintbrush at him in retaliation, but Lucas can tell he misses on purpose. “Honestly though,” Eliott folds his legs in front of himself and leans his elbows on them, eyes intent on Lucas’ face, smile in its rightful place. “I feel the same.” Lucas ducks his head a little, before forcing himself to meet Eliott’s eyes with a matching grin. 

“Good,” he says softly and Eliott’s smile widens. 

They take another moment to de-lid the tins, ensure that all the sheets are laid out properly and ready the paintbrushes, before they both come to stand in front of the wall. 

“What exactly are we doing with it?”

“I don’t know.” Eliott admits. “I’ve been busy thinking about other things.” He gives Lucas a meaningful wink and Lucas snorts, shoving at his arm. “I think we should just go all Jackson Pollack on it.”

“Oh yeah? What does that involve?”

“I’ll show you.” Eliott dips his brush into a can of blue paint and flicks his arm at the wall, sending a spray of blue splatters against the mural. “Like this, but multicoloured and everywhere.”

“That counts as art?” Lucas raises a doubtful eyebrow and smirks a little when Eliott pouts at him.

“Of course.  _ Serious _ art. Give it a try,” he suggests, nodding at the wall. Lucas copies Eliott’s moves, with the red paint this time. “Wow.” Eliott muses. “I didn’t think this was something someone could fail at. You’ve proved me wrong.”

“Hey!” Lucas protests. “I didn’t fail!”

“Oh, you did. Look at that!”

“It’s impossible to fail at something like this, unless you’re really,  _ really  _ bad.” 

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything...” Eliott says, faux serious, and Lucas knocks their shoulders together with an insulted gasp, nudging into Eliott’s side in the most annoying way he can think of, until Eliott is  _ this _ close to losing his balance again.

“Do you have a thing for wanting to see me fall over, or?” Eliott rights himself and shoves back at Lucas, a little more gently since Lucas would probably go flying if Eliott were to use the same amount of force. 

“Focus!” Lucas reprimands him with a cheeky grin. “This is  _ serious _ art, isn’t it?”

“Oh, yes. Very serious. I do apologise, kind sir. Please continue.” They go at the wall as a team. Lucas trades red for blue and Eliott chooses green. They use a mixture of Jackson Pollock-esque flicks and squeezing at bottles to get the paint to splatter across the wall in long lines. By the time the majority of the wall is covered in colour Lucas finds that he’s giggling too much to focus on which colours match best with which, and he’s just pulling random cans towards himself. 

“I don’t know how you artists do it,” Lucas declares, pausing to catch his breath.

“Hmm?”

“Well, I mean, all this  _ serious _ art. It must be so draining emotionally, you know? Like. Now I understand why artists are always complaining about not getting paid enough. It’s a  _ travesty _ .” Lucas taps at his chin with a finger, looking as serious as possible for as long as he can convince his face to play along.

“Oh is that right?” Eliott asks, turning to face him and tilting his head.

“Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ sound at the end and the corner of his mouth twitches into something resembling a smirk. Eliott nods slowly in time with the tap of Lucas’ finger on his chin. He darts closer before Lucas has a chance to register the movement. The paintbrush in his hand swipes at Lucas’ nose, leaving what he can only assume to be a dark blue smudge. 

“Are you serious?”

“Serious art, serious artist.” 

Lucas throws caution to the wind and full on tackles Eliott, paintbrush in hand. He manages to get him across one cheek, and down his jaw, leaving a swirl of green before he tries to whirl away. Eliott retaliates and the next thing he knows they’ve descended into an all out paint brawl, throwing paint at each other so haphazardly they end up adding to the mural by accident. At one point Eliott resorts to abandoning his brush, dipping both of his hands straight into the paint and grasping at Lucas’ top as soon as they get close enough. When Lucas manages to detangle himself from Eliott’s grasp he half throws himself to the floor so he can do the same, coating his hands and then rubbing them over Eliott’s shoulders when Eliott comes for him again.

It’s a mess. It’s hectic, and silly and perfect, and Lucas doesn’t spare more than a moment to worry about how skin safe the paint is because as soon as he thinks to ask, when they’re giggling together in the same space, only inches apart, Eliott is kissing him. One hand locks into Lucas’ hair and the other guides his jaw to get a better angle.

Lucas gasps into it, his own hands folding together behind Eliott’s neck, purposefully finger painting the gland there with such focus that Eliott’s knees start to buckle and he ends up backing Lucas into the wall to keep them both standing. 

The way Eliott cups his face makes every hair on Lucas’ body stand up; there is something so gentle about how his fingers caress Lucas’ jaw, and yet his eyes are as dark and fathomless as the pool of black paint in one of the lesser used tins. They separate for only a second so that Eliott can help strip his t-shirt, and then yank his own over his head. They press together again, magnets colliding, and Lucas can’t help but notice the way they are both quickly covered in paint. It streaks across Eliott’s nipples, and down the soft trail of hair that leads down his stomach and into his pants. Eliott is beautiful like this. He’s beautiful always, but with paint streaking his skin he is as colourful outside as he is in. 

There is a moment when they both pause at the same time. They don’t pull away more than an inch or two and they don’t say a word, but when their eyes meet they’re speaking the same language. This is more than instinct; it is poetry between them. When they’re finally naked together Eliott lifts him easily, pressing Lucas back against the wall so that they’re at a more equal height and Lucas doesn’t have to strain as much to reach Eliott’s lips.

“Ah!” Lucas arcs his back off of the wall, head thrown back to give Eliott space where he’s latched onto Lucas’ throat, sucking marks against any paint-less patch of skin he can find. “Eliott!” He’s breathless and it shows in his voice. He’s hard and leaking against Eliott’s abs, thighs locked around Eliott’s hips so he can support himself a little and take some of the strain off of Eliott’s arms. 

“Trust me,” Eliott presses the words into Lucas’ collar bones, then leans back far enough that Lucas can only just keep hold of his shoulders. He leaves enough space between them so that he can reach down and cup Lucas’ in his warm, slick hand.

“I hope,” Lucas gulps in lungfuls of air like he just spent the previous minute drowning, shuddering as Eliott strokes him in long, smooth pulls. “This paint is safe for skin--ah--ah--oh god-- otherwise-- ah!”

“It’s all good,” Eliott presses a kiss to the paint smear on his nose. “I wouldn’t recommend eating handfuls of the stuff, but I’ve used this brand before.” His grin is a little dirty in more ways than one now that he’s sporting a blue smear just below his bottom lip. 

Lucas gives up trying to talk, tightening his thighs, not because he’s afraid Eliott will drop him but because he has no choice. Every muscle in his body is doing it’s own thing, contracting tighter and tighter as he gets closer to the edge. He can feel slick starting to collect, but as much as he trusts Eliott about the paint, there is no way anything is going near his ass that hasn’t been showered thoroughly first, including Eliott’s fingers, which are caked in paint. 

“You close?” Eliott tightens his grip and Lucas practically wails into the air, biting his lip halfway through the sound to try to stifle it as quickly as possible, suddenly aware that they’re in a public space. He nods frantically as Eliott slides his thumb over the head of his dick, dabbing at the pre-come there and then smearing it in with the paint. The effect is both beautiful and intensely erotic. He feels every touch resonate through his groin, up into his hips and stomach and down into his thighs. Lucas bucks once, twice, spasming in Eliott’s grasp as his orgasm hits like a comet out of space and unwittingly adds to the mural on Eliott’s stomach and chest. 

Eliott gives him time to come back to himself before he starts to let Lucas’ feet find the floor, but his legs are so shaky they give way almost instantly. Eliott grabs for his hips and lowers them both until they’re sat on the paint splattered sheet, knees pressed tight together.

Lucas allows himself only a moment like this before he’s crawling into Eliott’s lap, reaching for Eliott’s erection even as Eliott tells him he doesn’t have to. Lucas gives him a cheeky smirk, eyes focused on the way Eliott’s eyes roll back into his head as soon as Lucas gets a hand on him. “I want to.” Lucas informs him primly. “If you weren’t covered in paint I’d use my mouth.” Eliott groans, hands tightening on Lucas’ hips and leaning forward so that he can press his face into Lucas’ neck, mouthing at the skin there. It doesn’t take long, even less time than it had taken Lucas, and when Eliott comes his teeth sink into Lucas’ shoulder. He yelps, high pitched and shocked and shuddering with the endorphins and hormones that flood him. It isn’t a mating bond, which would be done over the scent gland, it isn’t even a temporary bond because he isn’t in heat and Eliott isn’t in rut, and one of those is needed in order for that kind of bond to set in. But it’s a damn good replica and it fools his body for just long enough to trick another orgasm out of him, dry this time.

“Did you just--?”

“Uh huh,” Lucas shudders again, a full body shiver, and clings to Eliott, wrapping his arms around Elott’s neck and pressing their foreheads together. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit.” Eliott agrees, and they both dissolve into giggles. 

“How are we going to clean all this up?” Lucas looks around them, and back up at the mural. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Eliott follows his gaze. “Oh.”

“How the fuck did that end up looking good?” Lucas demands.

“I guess your ass was a good brush?”

Lucas turns to narrow his eyes at Eliott. “Are you calling my ass hairy?”

“What?” Eliott splutters. “No!”

“Because brushes are hairy.”

“I swear to god, that didn’t even cross my mind. I love your ass, baby.”

It’s like a god damned magic word. Lucas had been mostly teasing Eliott anyway, there had been no real annoyance in his voice, but all it takes is one word,  _ baby _ , and Lucas is putty, halfway to being a giggling mess again.

“Yeah okay.” Lucas mumbles, blushing. 

“Okay?” Eliott grins at him, like he knows exactly what’s going through Lucas head.

“Mmhmm,” Lucas nibbles at his own lip, eyes on the mess of Eliott’s chest. “As much as I’m loving this look on you,” he starts. “I think we should probably clean up. We’re pushing our luck as it is.” 

“Okay, baby.”

“Alright now you’re just abusing it.”

He pinches one of Eliott’s nipples as he stands, delighting in the sharp yelp and dancing away towards his paint covered clothes before Eliott can make a grab at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pals i am a nervous little bean this is the first time i've written something approaching smut with the intention of posting it so pls... go easy on me... oh god. if its bad just... dont tell me lmao. leave my ego intact pls. its been buffed up by each comment you guys leave it would be such a shame for it to take a beating now!
> 
> ... in all honesty tho im so nervous. 
> 
> also. suspend your disbelief. in this universe there is a paint that is fully applicable to use as wall paint and also safe for bodies lmao. idk if thats accurate to OUR world but its accurate in THEIRs and thats all that matters.
> 
> thank you all for your comments on last chapter! this one took a lot of effort, its the second longest chapter of this fic, and im really proud of it even with my smut-nerves!
> 
> also no lie my nerves might have got in the way of my editing skills rip
> 
> edited to add: thank you to everyone commenting telling me i have nothing to worry about, you're all angels bless you <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first half of the next week passes in something of a daze.

The first half of the next week passes in something of a daze.

It starts with a bit of an awkward foyer-meeting when Daphne corners them and screams her delight about the wall. Eliott and Lucas exchange nervous glances, but quickly give in to laughter when Alexia notices the butt mark. Within seconds everyone in the room is perfectly aware of what they’d done against the mural, and how it got so messy. Even if the mark hadn’t given it away the scent of Eliott and Lucas so thick against the paint would have done the trick. They make a hasty retreat while the others are occupied studying the wall, before anyone can think to ask if any of the paint had been… contaminated… with the bodily functions associated with sex. Neither of them actually know the answer to that and so it is in everybody’s best interest if no one ever thinks or has the chance to ask.

School is a breeze with Eliott by his side, and Bas and Arthur have both warmed up considerably, though Yann still seems a little protectively suspicious at times. He’s also taken to spouting off random pieces of information about subgenders whenever Lucas is around.

“Did you know that there was an omega in the U.S. who is reported to have lifted an entire car off of her kid when he got in an accident?” He nudges his shoulder into Lucas’ to try and get his attention from where it has latched onto Eliott’s face, yet again. Lucas throws him an absent smile. He doesn’t have the heart to tell Yann that he’s being a bit overbearing because Yann’s trying so hard to make up for what he thinks is a whole friendship worth of letting Lucas down. He won’t accept that Lucas has forgiven him so easily, when in Lucas’s mind there’s not even really anything to be forgiven for. The Monday following his heat, Yann had come to school with a backpack full of home baked goods. “This chat room I found says that after omegas have a heat it’s really good for them to eat stuff that their family has made!” He declares, and Lucas can’t help but be charmed.  Also, who knew Yann could bake? His banana bread is to _die_ for.

Eliott gets a little competitive with this, and when he stays over at Lucas’ he insists on cooking him scrambled eggs. Lucas eats them, promptly regrets his entire history of life choices, and then insists that “no really, Eliott. You don’t need to cook. _Ever_ again. Really,” whilst trying to keep a straight, non-horrified face. Eliott isn’t fooled. He spends the next five minutes snickering every time Lucas so much as glances at the disaster filled pan on the worktop.

On Wednesday they’re saying goodbye in front of Lucas’ next class, trading soft, mostly non-pornographic kisses and burrowing into each other like they’re about to separate for a month and not just an hour. Lucas is about to insist that Eliott leaves, since he also has a class to get to, when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and glances down. Not a number he recognises.

“Hello?” He answers, shrugging at Eliott’s eyebrow raise.

“Lucas? Hi. I got your number off of someone in your class. It’s Lucille. We need to talk, it’s-”

“Lucille?” He blinks at Eliott, and the warmth that had been coating Eliott’s face starts to melt away, replaced with something frustrated and hard-edged. Lucas won’t admit it but when Eliott reaches out to snatch the phone away from him, a very small part of him wants to flinch. It’s tiny, barely even noticeable, but it’s there.

“I told you to leave him alone, Lucille. I’ve made my decision. Stay out of our lives.” Eliott hangs up the phone, playing with it between his fingers for a moment before handing it back. It’s almost like he contemplated keeping it, which is weird. Lucas wonders if he’s due a rut. It would explain the slight change in behaviour that Lucas has noticed in the past couple of days. He’s quicker to laugh but quicker to get frustrated too, though never with Lucas, and his attention span seems to have taken a hit.  

“Why is she even calling me?”

“I don’t know. I guess now she knows she can’t get through me she’s trying to get at you. She wants us to fail, or something.”

“Right.” Eliott doesn’t even sound like he’s managed to convince himself, nevermind Lucas, but Lucas doesn’t push. If this is related to whatever Eliott’s secret is he has to let it come out naturally. He has to be patient. “Okay. Well, you have to go now, you’re going to be late, and the teacher has been giving us the stink eye for the past three minutes, so I better get in there before the bell actually rings and I get carted to the principal's office.”

Eliott grins. “I like the thought of you being naughty enough to-”

“Whoa!” Lucas interrupts, bright red. “Let’s shelve that thought for another time, when we’re not both due in class, alright?”

“Alright,” Eliott gives a long suffering sigh, but he’s smiling properly again, and that’s all that matters to Lucas. They kiss once more and Eliott leaves him with a lick against the seam of his mouth and a very, very light brush of his fingers against the bruise that is mostly hidden by Lucas hoodie, a perfect imprint of Eliott’s teeth. They hadn’t broken skin but the skin there is mottled and as colourful as the mural they’d left on the wall. Lucas dreads the day that it heals.

He spends a good chunk of the next hour alternating between thinking of Eliott and wondering why Alice hasn’t been in contact yet. He’d called Dr. Harding first thing Monday morning to double check that his reaction on Friday evening had been normal. She’d said it was to be expected, but to be careful because even though he technically wouldn’t be due another for a few months, with the way that his hormone system is repairing itself another heat could hit in a matter of weeks, or if another situation was to arrive that triggered it as Friday had. She’d also told him that she’d informed Alice of the situation earlier that morning, so Lucas really isn’t sure what’s keeping her from knocking down his door with her questions.

That afternoon, after classes have finished, he meets up with Eliott outside of the school and goes to join the gang in the park nearby. They sit a little separated from the rest so that Eliott can lean against a tree and Lucas can lean against him. He deposits himself within the V of Eliott’s legs, with his head on Eliott’s chest and Eliott’s arms wrapped around him securely. The sun is shining, though they’re mostly in shade, and he can hear laughter floating up from where their friends are sitting.

“Do you want to do something this weekend?” Eliott asks, playing with Lucas’ fingers and pressing a soft kiss into the crown of his head. “I’d invite you over but my parents decided to visit a week earlier, so they’re taking up most of the space. We wouldn’t really get any privacy.”

“I think Manon and Mika are throwing a party in the flat. We could go to that?” Lucas suggests, tipping his head back to try to get a look at Eliott and only having a prime view of his nostrils. They’re Eliott’s nostrils, however, which makes them beautiful, so Lucas doesn't mind.

Eliott scrunches his nose. “I guess.” He says, drawing out the ‘ss’ sound until he resembles a cartoon snake. “But I kind of wanted to get you alone.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lucas wiggles his eyebrows with a grin and Eliott leans in to plant a kiss against his cheek.

“I’ll figure something out, and let you know by Friday.” Eliott declares, wrapping his arms tighter around Lucas’ shoulders. “Just keep the evening clear.”

That night, when he finally gets home, still glowing from spending so much time with Eliott, it is to find Alice sitting on his couch with her legs neatly crossed and a cup of tea. She looks incredibly prim next to a fidgeting Mika.

He freezes, wishing that Eliott hadn’t had to go back to his own apartment to tidy it for his parents and at the same time being incredibly glad that he isn’t here to make this more complicated than it already is. “Lucas,” Alice stands as soon as she sees him, and Lucas is still frozen in place. She walks towards him in long, confident strides, and because the apartment isn’t that big she reaches him in seconds. She pauses in front of him, scans his face, his tense stance, and then swoops in to hug him. The soft, barely there scent of fresh baked bread envelopes him.

Over her shoulder he meets Mika’s gaze, both of them are wide eyed with shock. Mika was halfway to standing up when Alice had hugged him and now he’s just sort of hovering, not sat but not quite stood, with a confused glaze to his expression.

Alice pulls back and takes his face in her hands.

“Oh, Lucas,” she murmurs, shaking her head and sending her long, blonde hair swishing from side to side. “I wish you’d told me when we first met. I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through.” Lucas thinks maybe he’s slipped into some kind of dream state, or a hallucination. Surely, in the real world, Alice is screaming at him. Surely she’s dragging him out by his ear, away from Mika and the only real home he can truly remember.

“You’re… not mad?” Lucas checks.

“No, sweetheart. Come-- sit down. Mika.” She turns on him and Mika jolts up, almost standing to attention as if she’s a drill captain and this is an army base. Lucas wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d saluted. “Fresh tea, if you would.” Mika accepts the task with a face so serious you’d think she’d told him to barricade the doors and give his life to protect them, instead of sticking the kettle on. She leads Lucas to the couch and pats his shoulder until he sits warily on the edge. “You know, so much more about you makes sense now.”

“Like what?”

“Like how you refused to see your mother all this time. You must have been so scared after you presented, to resort to buying drugs off a street corner rather than come to me. I’m so sorry if i’ve ever done anything or said anything that gave you the impression that I wouldn’t help you.”

“I thought that you’d be more angry,” he admits. “I was worried-- and I know now that it was a silly worry-- but at the time I was scared you’d take me away, put me somewhere similar to where you put my mother.”

Alice regards him with a slight frown.

“Where exactly do you think we put her?”

“I don’t know. Some kind of omega detention facility? Somewhere she can’t hurt anyone? Or herself?”

“Oh, Lucas,” Alice closes her eyes and inhales deeply. When she looks at him again she is on the verge of tears and Lucas doesn’t know how to make this better. What had he said? “I think we’ve had an error in communication, and I haven’t been doing my job very well. I’m so sorry. I need you to listen to me very carefully, alright?” She checks in with him, only continuing when he nods. “Your mother is in a psychiatric hospital, yes, and she is an in-patient. But she’s doing _so_ well. She’s taking classes, she’s joined groups, made friends. She goes out on trips around the city. She isn’t a prisoner, and she was never in a detention facility. The clinic is oriented towards omegas, yes, but only so they can give them the best care possible.”

Wait, _what._ His mother can _leave the facility?_

“But…” Lucas’ jaw clenches. “If that’s true, why has she never visited me? Or even called? Or written a fucking letter?”

“Language,” she chides.

“Sorry.”

“I can’t answer that, i’m afraid. I’m not in contact with her, my job is to look after you, or to make sure you have people who can do that for me until you can take over the job yourself. I haven’t spoken to her in years. I just get updates, to pass onto you, but when you were younger you were adamant that you didn’t want to hear anything and I didn’t want to push you. I thought you’d come to me when you were ready to know. I see now that I made the wrong decision.”

“Oh.”

Lucas isn’t quite sure what to do with this information. He thinks about his mother often, but it’s always with a backdrop of iron bars at the windows, locks on the doors and the idea that she probably hasn’t been outside since she was first taken there. He’d created a nightmare image in his head and allowed it to escalate over the past four years to the point where it’s affected the way he sees his own presentation; as something that needs to be controlled, hidden, locked away. He hadn’t even realised the true extent of the correlation until now.

Why hasn’t she reached out to him? Or maybe he should be asking the question Mika had put to him not too long ago; why hasn’t he reached out to her?

“Hey,” she reaches over and takes his hand. “Hey, Lucas, can you take a breath for me?” It’s only when she speaks that he realises he isn’t actually breathing. He forces his lungs to cooperate, desperate to avoid another anxiety attack. “There we go.”

Mika comes back with the tea, places it on the table and hovers awkwardly, staring at Lucas and wringing his hands while Alice talks softly to him until his breathing is back to normal.

“Do you have anxiety attacks often?” She asks.

“No.” It’s a lie, considering he’s had three in the past week and a half but she doesn’t know that. Her nose isn’t quite sensitive enough to pick it out. Mika’s is, on the other hand, and Lucas can practically feel the way his gaze goes laser like on Lucas’ face. To Lucas’ everlasting gratitude, he doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Alice purses her lips, thoughtful. “But I wonder if maybe it would be a good idea for you to visit her. All you’d need to do is ask, I can set it up for you.”

“I--”

“Just think about it, alright?” She pats his knee. “You don’t need to rush into a decision. I just think maybe it would give you some closure. I don’t want you having an anxiety attack whenever you think about this, it isn’t healthy.”

“I’ll think about it.” Lucas promises, unsure, for once, if he’s lying or not. Mika isn’t any help, he’s blank faced and quiet where he’s still stood next to the couch.

“Alright, good.” Alice reaches into her bag. “I also brought the test results from last Friday. I went to see Dr. Harding this afternoon to pick them up, seems they got in a day or so early and she thought it best that I was the one to deliver them, since I’ve known you for longer and we needed a chat anyway. Saves you a trip, too.”

Oh god. That doesn’t sound good. Did Dr. Harding think he needed a shoulder to cry on? Is that why? He can feel his breathing start to falter again, and Alice must notice something in his face because she hurries to continue before it can get too out of hand.

“You have a clean bill of health, Lucas.” She hands him a thick white envelope full of papers. His hand is shaking when he takes them. “She said everything came back normal. It’s a miracle, and one you shouldn’t take lightly. Don’t ever do something like this again-- that’s a message from the both of us by the way. You still need to go in on the date she gave you for some follow up blood work, and you should still keep the both of us up to date with any developments or odd side effects that you notice, but other than that, you’re fine and free to live your life now.”

“Oh thank god,” Mika screeches, making Alice jolt with surprise hard enough that she spills her tea on her lap, while Lucas almost falls off of the sofa. Mika practically dive bombs Lucas, wrapping him up in a very tight, very uncomfortable coffee scented hug.

“Yeah--” Lucas wheezes. “Not that it’ll matter if you don’t let me _breathe_ , Mika! You’re _crushing_ me!” It takes a moment but Mika eventually pulls back, beaming at him like he doesn’t care that he was almost the cause of an untimely and possibly ironic death.

Despite the tea spill, Alice is smiling fondly at both of them.

 

She stays for a little while longer; Lucas won’t let her leave until she’s assured him that he can stay with Mika and she has no plans of trying to separate them, and that Mika isn’t in trouble at all (although, to be fair, she’s still under the impression that he hadn’t known until recently, but Lucas isn’t going to push that at this stage).

When she’s gone he calls Yann straight away with an update, asking him to pass it on to the boys, and then calls Eliott as soon as they’ve said goodbye.

“Are you still coming over tonight?” He asks when Eliott answers with a cheerful greeting.

“Yeah, I’m on my way now. Why? Want me to pick something up?”

“Pizza! We’re celebrating!” Mika shouts so loudly that even though he’s on the other side of the room Eliot still hears him.

“What are we celebrating?”

“I’ll tell you when you get here,” Lucas bites his lips to try to stop his mouth spreading into a grin so wide that it falls off his face. “I just wanted to check in.”

“Alright, Mr. Mystery. Be with you soon.”

They hang up and Lucas lets Mika dance him around the apartment, singing way too loudly for a Wednesday evening. When Eliott arrives they celebrate with food and beer, dragging Manon into it as soon as she gets in. And later, under the covers of his bed, Lucas and Eliott celebrate it again, in a much more private and considerably more naked context.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think we've established by now that lucas is an unreliable narrator haha. a lot of stuff happens in this chapter, its a bit of a filler until we can get to the good stuff again >:) and by good stuff ofc i mean angst! 
> 
> thank you guys so much for your support of last chapter's little dive into smut. it honestly made my week and like, propelled me to write todays chapter, tomorrows chapter and start wednesday's chapter too all in one day! so thank you <3


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friday evening rolls around with a sense of anticipation.

Friday evening rolls around with a sense of anticipation. Eliott refuses to tell Lucas where they’re going, no matter how many times he asks. It takes five solid minutes of begging to even get a dress code out of him, and that doesn’t help much considering all Eliott says is to dress casually and comfortably. They walk in a direction of Eliott’s choosing, hand in hand, until they reach some kind of unseen way point, where Eliott decides it’s necessary to start walking behind Lucas, using his hands as a makeshift blindfold so that Lucas can’t see where they’re going.

“Alright, watch your feet, we’re about to start going down!”

“Down?” Lucas stumbles a little when, as Eliott said it would, the path in front of him begins to decline. “Oh fuck. Don’t let go of me, okay?”

“I’m here. Trust me. I’ve got you.” Eliott is giggling to himself every time Lucas wobbles, pressing himself back against Eliott’s chest to try and win back a bit of balance. 

When they finally make it onto the spot that Eliott has designated as the reveal, Lucas feels a little dizzy both from the nerves and from the fact that he can’t see anything. Also-- it kind of feels like the earth isn’t quite steady beneath his feet. “Tell me where we are!” Lucas begs, trying to stifle his laughter before it gets out of hand and topples him over. His heart feels so warm and full it might burst. 

“Nope.” 

“Please!”

“Nope!”

They shuffle a little further across where they’re stood, on a hard material that creaks and groans a little too much for Lucas’ nerves to handle as they walk across it. The air smells damp and wooden, and wherever they are it’s colder than where they started

“Alright. Are you ready?” Eliott asks.

“Yes!” Lucas’ reply is immediate. “Can I open my eyes now?”

“Mmhmm.” 

Eliott removes his hands slowly, dropping his palms down to Lucas’ shoulders to steady him as Lucas blinks into the fresh night air. “Ta-da!” Eliott jumps around him in a semicircle, hands clasped together in delight as he takes in Lucas’ reaction. 

Lucas is stunned. The night sky is clear. There’s less light pollution at what he assumes to be the docks, so he can even see the stars from here. The water is quiet and barely moving in the slight breeze, and the barge, now that he realises that he is in fact stood on a barge, is swaying gently beneath their feet. There are lights strung up around the barge’s railings, beautiful and glowing in their reflection on the water as well as where they’re wrapped around the metal. 

“This is what you planned for the weekend?” He is in awe, and it shows in his voice, on his face. It’s mirrored in Eliott’s pleased eyes, wide and watching, searchlights in the dark. 

“Yeah!” 

“How did you even pay for this?” 

Eliott snorts and waves him off, pulling him in for a kiss.

“Tell me!” Eliott just kisses him again. “Did you win the lottery?” He knows that Eliott’s family is well off. They have a house and they pay for Eliott’s apartment, and it’s a nice building, not cheap. But he isn’t sure that they’d pay for something like this without even having met Lucas. 

Eliott shakes his head, grinning, and spins away from him. He goes to the edge of the barge and throws his arms out wide. “This is my boyfriend!” He yells at a passing boat. “Isn’t he hot?” Lucas claps his hands over his mouth and lets out an embarrassed squeak, torn between laughing and throwing himself over the side of the barge to escape the curious glances that might now be pointing his way. 

“Stop!” He reaches out and grabs at Eliott’s coat, pulling him close and hiding his face in Eliott’s chest, laughing softly. “Are you crazy?” Eliott stiffens against him for half of a second, but before Lucas can wonder why, he’s pulling away, cupping Lucas’ jaw and pressing their mouths together in a wet kiss. “No one has ever done anything like this for me before,” Lucas tells him when they separate again, and Eliott’s smile softens. 

“Since I met you,” Eliott ducks his head to meet Lucas’ gaze full on. “You’re the only thing that matters. I would do this for you every week. Every day. Anything to make you happy. For as long as you’ll allow.” Lucas is speechless. He can’t even tell if he’s breathing because his whole body is numb to anything but this feeling of rapture. “Come on,” he says, tugging at Lucas hand. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He steers the two of them into the main room, where it’s a little warmer and more private.

 

The evening passes quickly. 

They eat together, smoke together, drink together. They inhale each other as greedily as they inhale the weed. Lucas couldn’t tell you what time it is when they got there, he couldn’t tell you how long they spend at the table before they retire to the mattress. He doesn’t think he could even count how many times he comes before Eliott even rolls the condom onto his erection. It might be once, it might be twice, or three times. He has no idea. His brain has ascended to another level of being and his body is pressed as close to Eliott as it can get, closer than he thought he’d ever be able to be to another person. 

There’s something in the air, a scent Lucas has never come across before. It is a sharp stick prodding at the back of his brain, right into the core of his instincts. For something he has no concept of, it is achingly familiar. He shudders, inhaling deeper. Maybe this is how the Big Bang smelled, and it’s echoing across time, calling to him; raw and hot, a little metallic but still sweet somehow. Vanilla couldn’t have been even a gleam in the universes eye at the point where everything started but Lucas doesn’t care. Logic has never mattered as little as it does now, in this moment and he is consumed with the idea that the beginning of everything smelled exactly like Eliott smells now. That Eliott himself is a beginning that Lucas never wants to end. 

When Eliott pushes inside of him for the first time Lucas loses a part of himself to the universe. It drifts away on the water, floats into the ether to join the stars. He becomes part of the fabric of life. He loses a part of himself to Eliott too, swallowed up by a beautiful boy as they trade open mouthed kisses. Lucas is on his back and Eliott is above him, his muscles defined as they move in and out of the shadows cast by the candles they’d set out earlier, after abandoning the dining table. He feels himself unravelling, twists and tangles in a ball of string being picked apart by Eliott’s careful fingers until the entire length of him is laid out, vulnerable, all sides bare to the world and no places left to hide. 

He arches his back, head dropping down onto the pillow with a soft moan as Eliott’s wide hands slide up his flank, up his hips to settle on the curve of his waist. Eliott presses them closer together, and closer and closer until Lucas couldn’t tell you where they begin and where they end. There is no Lucas anymore. No Eliott. They are this one, whole glowing sun, two steps away from a supernova the likes of which this universe of theirs has never known. 

He feels Eliott’s knot start to tug at his rim as it expands, catching, catching and finally locking in. Lucas clenches around it and Eliott lets out a hoarse cry, burying his face in the gap between Lucas’ neck and shoulder. As unlikely as he knows it should be, they come at the same time and it really is an explosion.  _ La petite mort; _ the little death. Lucas latches onto Eliott’s upper back, digging his fingers so deep into the skin of his shoulder blades that he knows he will have left bruises, he’s  _ glad _ of it, eager to leave any kind of lasting mark, and Eliott, Eliott--

Lucas cries out to the ceiling, a wordless, wild noise, as Eliott’s teeth close on his neck, on the same place he’d bitten less than a week before, near the seam where his neck connects to his shoulder, where Eliott’s face had been pressed only moments ago. His body feels that same rush of endorphins, the same spike of adrenaline as it pushes him over the edge of a dry orgasm. There’s something else there though, digging in through the pleasure. Something he’s never felt before at the back of his mind. He can’t focus on it, too caught up in the feeling of Eliott’s knot where it locks them together, on how full he feels, how  _ good. _ On how Eliott’s teeth feel when they pull back, releasing him but staying close enough that his panting breath is damp on Lucas’ skin. On how their eyes meet, and the air, already electric and humming around them, ignites all over again. 

They make love twice more. It isn’t fucking, or even just sex, not when this connection between them pulls taut everytime their mouths meet. It’s like they can’t stop themselves, so entwined in body and mind that the option of pulling away and having a break never even occurs. Lucas has never felt so loved, so wanted, so cared for. And he can see his every emotion mirrored back in Eliott’s eyes. They both want this more than he thinks either of them have ever wanted anything. Lucas is sore by the end of it, but pleasantly so. His neck throbs in time with his beating heart, and with Eliott’s too, since they’re so in sync.

When they finally flop apart, exhausted and sticky and flushed, Lucas can feel the ghost of Eliott still inside of him. He’s dripping, a mixture of slick and his own come from where it’s dripped down his thighs and stomach, and Eliott reaches over from where he’s laid on his back, next to Lucas, to dip a finger into the mess. Lucas makes an inhuman noise when Eliott brings his hand up to his face to study it first, and then to lick at it. Lucas almost wishes they hadn’t bothered with the condoms, as stupid as that would have been, if only so that he could feel Eliott still inside of him in more ways than one. Somehow, Eliott reads his mind. He doesn’t vocalise it, but then he doesn’t need to. This connection between them is like a live wire, electric, and Lucas just knows that Eliott knows what Lucas is thinking. He can see it in the smile that tugs at Eliott’s slightly sticky lips.

They take a moment to breathe.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Eliott checks after a minute or so has passed, eyes going back down to Lucas’ parted legs.

“Nu uh.” Lucas denies. “I might never be able to walk again, but this is a fate I chose willingly, and I’m content with it.” Eliott snorts and shuffles closer so their upper arms are pressed together. He nudges at the sheet that’s barely covering them until Lucas is practically wrapped in it, and it’s only then that he realises he is shivering. “I love this barge.” He declares. “I could spend the rest of my life on it.”

“Me too,” Eliott rolls over onto his side, facing Lucas and propping himself up on his elbow, hand pressed into his jaw, so that he can look down at him. “I’ll even rent it for our wedding.”

_ Wedding _ . Lucas wants to laugh it off, make a joke of it, because surely Eliott isn’t serious. They’ve not even been together for a  _ month  _ yet. But in the next moment he can see it all spread out in front of him, a timeline unravelled. He can see a church, a priest, a piano in the background. He sees Eliott, standing at the end of a red carpeted walkway with his back to Lucas. It feels so real that when he closes his eyes he can feel himself walking down the aisle, towards the love of his life, ready to declare to the world that this is who he wants to spend eternity with. In sickness and in health. Til death do us part. He opens his eyes again; only a second has passed but it feels like a lifetime. 

“You think we’ll get married?” He asks to distract himself from the fantasy in his head which feels so much like reality that he’s having double vision. 

“Well, yeah. Don’t you?” Eliott has produced some of the ham from dinner earlier that night. God only knows where he’d been keeping it. “Think about it.” Eliott eats a piece from between his fingers. “We’ll have ham, like this, and potato chips. In fact, that’s all we’ll have.”

“You don’t want people to eat better things at our wedding?”  _ Hypothetical wedding _ , he reminds himself.

“No,” Eliott says. “Because our wedding will be so amazing that everyone will want ham and potato chips at  _ their _ wedding.” He pauses for only long enough to shove another piece of ham into his mouth. “Then all the caterers will go bankrupt and Trump will have no choice but to declare war on Russia to have a ham monopoly!”  _ Wait, what _ ? Lucas stares at him as he continues to talk, uncertain. But Eliott is laughing, so it must be okay, right? Lucas smiles indulgently and pretends it doesn’t feel forced. Eliott must just be a bit hyper from the adrenaline of before, he’ll come down soon. He can see Eliott’s knee bouncing a little under the blanket, like it’s got a mind of its own, and Lucas can’t help but wonder how he’s got so much energy after what they’ve done tonight. 

Eliott continues to talk and his words continue to make no sense. Technically they fit together as sentences should, but the meaning? The context? It’s all over the place. Lucas is lost from the get go, only able to cling to the side of Eliott’s speech like he’s Rose clinging to a door in the middle of an ocean as the Titanic sinks to the seabed, ready to watch Jack sink too. Why does this feel so intense? More importantly, why is his first thought to compare this to a tragedy? First Romeo and Juliet and now this. Eliott is just in a good mood. A weird mood, but a good one nonetheless. He’s still laughing between every other word. It’s fine. Everything is fine.  

“Wow.” Is about all he can force himself to say when Eliott finally appears to be done. He inhales deeply through his nose, making note of the odd metallic tang that still clings to their entwined scents. Eliott’s is overwhelming now, Lucas can barely pick out his own rain-scent underneath it.

Eliott nuzzles closer, abandoning the ham to the side, presumably back to where it come from. “How many Lucases and Eliotts do you think are married, in your parallel worlds?”  _ Alright, _ Lucas thinks,  _ roll with it. _ It’s a bit of a subject jump but they _ had _ just been talking about marriage before… well. Before Trump and Russia came into it. Lucas forces himself to consider it, and it isn’t hard; his mind is almost desperate to get away from the weird vibe that Eliott had been exuding before. 

“I don’t know.” He settles on. “A lot.”

“A lot?” Lucas nods. “Well, fuck. We should die tonight then.” Lucas looks at him, the movement of his neck is so sharp that he is surprised neither of them start spontaneously bleeding. “When we’ve reached the zenith.” 

“Why would you say that?” Lucas wants it to be a demand but it comes out as more of a plea. 

“Just kidding,” Eliott’s smile is too bright for the darkness in his eyes. He presses a kiss to Lucas’ forehead and it is the only thing in this moment that doesn’t feel fragile. The only thing that doesn’t feel like it would crumple and tear like aluminium foil in a blender. Lucas looks away. He can’t meet Eliott’s eyes without feeling like his vision is burning at the edges, a film roll set on fire. “Just kidding.” Eliott repeats, chuckling. 

Nothing about this feels like a joke. 

When Eliott presses closer to him, still smiling, Lucas can’t stop himself from reaching over and wrapping his fingers around any part of Eliott that he can cling to. Everything’s  _ fine. _

 

He has a memory of waking once to find Eliott watching over him. He remembers asking if Eliott is coming to bed, remembers Eliott saying something about not being able to sleep with such a hot guy in his bed. He remembers smiling. He falls back to sleep easily.

The next time he opens his eyes Eliott is sliding into his trainers, naked. “Where are you going?” Lucas slurs, only half awake. 

“For a swim.” Eliott says. “Go back to sleep.” 

Lucas tries. He does. He closes his eyes, settles back into the covers, and breathes deeply. He isn’t sure what it is that sets the alarm bells ringing. He doesn’t hear a splash. His neck is throbbing harder, an itch under the skin. The world has a weird watery quality to it when he sits up, hyper aware that something isn’t right. “Eliott?” No answer. Shit.

He tumbles out of bed and into his clothes, grabs his shoes and makes a run for the outer section of the barge, ignoring the ache in his lower back. There’s no one there. He presses a hand to the bite on his neck. “Eliott?” It’s more of a shout now, and Lucas can hear the panic rising in his own voice. “Eliott!” He races from one side of the boat to the other, eyes wide and searching and  _ helpless _ . His neck is a distant thought hammering at a wall with no chance of breaking through. He walks the edges of the boat again, fingers gripping his hair so tight he wouldn’t be surprised if he pulls a few chunks out. All he can think of is Rose and Jack on that goddamned door. How Rose didn’t notice until it was too late to do anything to save the love of her life.

“Fuck!” He shouts it so loud it hurts his own ears, but that’s nothing in comparison to the throbbing of his neck, or the way it feels like someone has gone at his heart with an ice cream scoop, taking chunks until little remains. 

He has no choice, at this point.

His hands shake as they pull his phone from his pocket, and it takes more than one try to bring up the recent calls list and find Lucille’s number. He presses his thumb down and hopes he isn’t making a mistake. Something isn’t right, something hasn’t been right all evening. It had started days ago, with that look in Eliott’s eyes, when Lucille called him and Eliott had been reluctant to give Lucas his phone back. Or maybe it was earlier than that even. Lucas has known for a week now, that Eliott is keeping secrets. And as Eliott himself has said, no one knows him better than Lucille and if this secret has anything to do with why Eliott has vanished, he needs to know. There’s no more time for patience. 

When Lucille arrives Lucas is sat on the steps of the barge, hands clasped together and pressed to his face, shaking so hard that it feels like the entire boat should be moving. She storms towards him, eyes bright with fury. 

“I’ve looked everywhere.” He stands to meet her as his voice cracks. “I can’t find him.” 

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know!” Lucas shouts. The tears that have been collecting in the corners of his eyes have started to make a break for it, running the length of his cheeks. “We were fine, I was sleeping, I woke up and he said he was going for a swim! He left but I didn’t hear a splash, so I thought something might be wrong. He was gone by the time I got out here. He was  _ naked, _ Lucille.”

“Oh fuck.”  Lucille’s fists are bricks at the side of her body. Lucas can see in her eyes how tempted she is to hit him just to have something to do other than panic. “Alright. We just have to hope that the cops find him.” 

“I don’t even understand what’s happening.” He runs his fingers through his hair again. His hands are still shaking. 

The look she gives him is disgusted. “He’s bipolar, Lucas! Do you understand that?” She screams it at him, viciously enough that spittle flies from her lips and lands at his feet.

The only thing he can compare this moment to is the feeling of being on a roller coaster and climbing right to the top. Sitting there, waiting-- because that’s what he’s been doing, waiting. He hadn’t even realised it but ever since Eliott started acting oddly after they’d had sex he’s been waiting for the drop. And god, what a drop this is. It has stolen the breath from his lungs, frozen the blood in his veins. He isn’t even moving but it feels like he’s plummeting towards Earth. 

“He probably broke into the boat,” she says.

“He told me he rented it.” He doesn’t know how he finds the words to speak. This is the secret Eliott has been hiding. This is what had been acting as the only barrier left between them. Why hadn’t Eliott said-- oh.  _ Oh  _ fuck. 

_ I don’t need crazy people in my life. _

It’s his fault. This is what had pushed Eliott away. Lucas had been blind to anything but his own issues, hadn’t even thought that Eliott could be mentally ill. No wonder Eliott had gone straight back to Lucille, who wouldn’t judge him for something he couldn’t help. No.  _ No _ . He’d come back to Lucas. He’d forgiven him without Lucas even knowing that he needed to say sorry. Eliott would have told him. He would have. Lucas has to believe that, there’s nothing else left if this is taken from him too. 

“Did you smoke?”

Lucas nods, miserable.

“He can’t smoke. It isn’t good for him. He’s sick, Lucas. Do you understand?”

Lucas doesn’t understand  _ anything  _ anymore. The world is spinning weirdly. His heart feels like it’s grown legs and is kicking at the inside of his rib cage, desperate to escape. His neck-- _ god. _ Hid neck really hurts. 

Lucille’s phone rings and she answers it. “Oh, thank god. Yeah. I’ll call his parents and come down.” She looks at Lucas as she hangs up. “They’ve got him.”

“I’m coming with you.” 

“No, you’re--” She stares at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “What is that?”

Lucas hadn’t even realised that his hand had raised to press into the bite mark on his neck again. “What?” He meets her gaze, or tries to. There are two of her, both swaying from side to side, and he can’t decide which to focus on. He presses his hand harder onto the bite. It’s pulsing with little stabs of agony. He thinks he might be crying again but he can’t feel anything but the heat under his hand. 

“Lucas!” Lucille lunges forwards and grabs him. He doesn’t understand why, at first, but when he hits the floor with a pained gasp her arms are the only thing that stop his head from making contact with the rough wooden boards. He thinks she might be saying something, he can see her mouth moving, but someone has pressed the mute button on the world. He shudders violently against her and she wraps him up tighter to keep him from accidentally rolling off of the side and into the water. 

The world fades, then vanishes completely as his eyes roll up into the back of his head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> from the very start of this fic, where i actually wrote that i wasn't sure how i'd handle eliott's episode, i was scared to write this chapter. im still a little terrified lmao. i did my best, thats all i can say. im happy enough with it that im content to share it; if at any point id thought i couldnt handle it i would have done some kind of time jump or work around. so i just hope that you're all content with it too.. you know.. despite that lovely cliff hanger lmao. 
> 
> you might have guessed but this is the moment i laughed in canon's face and then ran away with lucas and eliott slung over my shoulders. canon will probably catch up, at some point, and we'll shake hands and agree to be pals again, but for now we're in my realm.
> 
> >:D 
> 
> p.s. @gosia? this isn't it yet. i know i said the next lot of angst would be your fault for that lovely heart attack you gave me, but i lied. its the next lot AFTER this lmao. like i said. MY realm.
> 
> p.p.s EVERYTHING above was consensual in terms of sex, just in case anyone is worried about wtf is going on. im not saying anything else in case i spoil it for anyone who hasnt guessed. everything will be made clear in tomorrows chapter.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When he wakes up his mouth is as dry as a desert and his eyes are crusty with sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just as a heads up theres discussion of consent and what it means in this chapter, as i've said before everything has been consented to so don't worry about that, but it's an important point i think needs to be covered in abo fics! i hope ive done it justice!

When he wakes up his mouth is as dry as a desert and his eyes are crusty with sleep. There’s a very slight ache in his lower back and he’s starving. He’s in a bed that doesn’t feel familiar, in a room he doesn’t recognise, but he’s surrounded by vanilla and chocolate and instinctively he knows he’s where he needs to be. It takes him a moment to gather himself enough to push up onto his elbows and glance around, but when he does he isn’t surprised to find that he’s laid out next to a sleeping Eliott. Lucas feels a bus full of tension lifting from his chest and lets himself collapse back against the soft mattress with an even softer sigh of relief.

His brain is foggy with questions. How did he get here? Why did he pass out? Is this Eliott’s room at his apartment? Lucas hadn’t seen it either of the two times he’d been to Eliott’s, but Eliott’s scent is everywhere and the walls are decorated with dubstep music posters and hand drawn comic strips. In all honesty, he doesn’t even care all that much though. They could be on the moon, or Mars, and the fact that he’s in the same bed as Eliott would still erase any worry he might have upon waking. Maybe he had a panic attack again and passed out this time. Or maybe it was just the stress of thinking something could have happened to Eliott.

His neck isn’t hurting anymore at least. He runs the pads of his fingertips over the bandage that’s covering it to check, but there’s nothing, no pain at all, just a very subtle ache that’s more pleasant than anything.  _ If there’s a bandage the bite must have broken skin, _ Lucas muses. He hadn’t noticed in the moment, as caught up as they’d been. It can’t have bled too much though because surely they’d both have noticed that.

A soft snuffle draws his attention sideways, and he glances over in time to see Eliott blink himself awake. “Hey.” Lucas whispers, not really sure why he doesn’t speak at full volume. “Are you okay?” Eliott blinks at him, a slow meandering movement, and then his face starts to crumple. “Oh.” Lucas’ eyes widen. Oh no. “Can I--” He gestures frantically in Eliott’s direction, and although he doesn’t speak he does nod, and it’s enough for Lucas to allow himself to scoot over and wrap both arms around his boyfriend. “I’m here,” he murmurs. “Not going anywhere.”

Eliott buries his face into Lucas’ chest, curling himself up into as tiny a ball as he can make and shaking through his tears. His sobs are quiet in the small room, quiet enough that Lucas can tell he’s trying to subdue them. He tightens his grip around Eliott, pressing his cheek into the soft tufts of hair at the crown of Eliott’s head. When he eventually quietens Lucas allows himself to pull back a little just to check on him. His eyes are damp and red, and the skin under them is worryingly bruised considering he’d looked fine the last time Lucas had seen him. He looks drained. He’s also having trouble meeting Lucas’ gaze, but Lucas doesn’t push him. He isn’t sure if that would be for the best yet.

“She told you.” The words are delivered in monotone.

“Yeah.”

“I wanted to be the one to say it.”

“I know baby,” Lucas brushes Eliott’s fringe out of his face. “I know. Say it now.”

“You already know.”

“It doesn’t matter.  _ Lucille _ means nothing to me.  _ You _ mean the world. Say it now.”

Eliott drags his eyes up from where they’d been studiously focused on Lucas’ chin and when their gazes finally lock Lucas feels something within himself settle. “I have bipolar disorder.” He  _ shoves  _ the words out. Lucas can feel the force that it takes for Eliott to say them. 

“Okay,” Lucas kisses his own fingertips and then presses them against Eliott’s cheek. It doesn’t quite get him a smile, but something about Eliott’s face seems to relax. “We’ll talk about this more when you feel better but for now, just know that i’m here. Everything is going to be alright.” It isn’t a lie. Lucas means it, even if he doesn’t yet know how, when everything feels a little like it’s falling apart. He feels like he’s been thrown into the deep end here, but yesterday (or, actually, possibly the day before that. He isn’t sure how long they’ve been asleep) he learned that what he’s thought about his mother for the past four years of his life has been wrong. And the past month alone has shown him that what he thought about his presentation was wrong too. 

Manon isn’t weak because she’s an omega. 

His mother isn’t on lock down. 

Eliott accepted him despite his lies. 

And now he knows why Eliott left in the first place, back when Lucas had told him the truth, and it has nothing to do with Lucas at all, or at least not in a general sense. It wasn’t due to worry that Lucas was an omega, or that Lucas would end up like his mother. It was simply that Lucas had said something cruel without thinking. 

He thinks it’s about time that he reevaluates his life. He thinks its probably about time he visits his mother too, but that can wait for another day, when Eliott doesn’t need him quite so much. Eliott kept watch while Lucas was in heat, Lucas is more than happy to keep watch while Eliott does whatever it is he needs to do, even if that’s just sleep. He doesn’t know enough about bipolar disorder to make any judgement calls here, but Eliott has been dealing with it, and Lucille too. He’ll talk to them, find out what he needs to be aware of, how he can help. 

“Okay,” Eliott whispers, closing his eyes again. It doesn’t stop Lucas from noticing the sharp bitter aftertaste of Eliott’s scent at the back of his throat when he breathes in. Eliott doesn’t believe him. But that’s okay, Lucas isn’t expecting miracles, he hasn’t exactly proven to Eliott in the past that he’s willing and ready to stick around people who have mental illnesses. He’ll fix this. He will. He won’t give in until Eliott knows exactly what he means to Lucas, until Lucas has apologised ten thousand times or more, not with words, although he knows he needs to say those too, but with actions.

“I’m going to get you some water, alright?” 

“Alright.” Eliott doesn’t open his eyes again, but Lucas can see in the way that his lips tremor ever so slightly that there’s something he wants to say, so he hesitates to leave. “Are you-- they brought you in when you were unconscious. Are you alright?” Lucas blinks tears out of his eyes. After everything Eliott’s been through he still asks how  _ Lucas _ is. 

“Yeah,” Lucas swallows. “I don’t know what happened, maybe another panic attack?” He leans over to run a single finger across the lines on Eliott’s forehead in an attempt to smooth them. It doesn’t work, if anything they’ve deepened. Maybe Lucas shouldn’t have said anything. “It’s not your fault, Eliott.” Eliott just rolls over to face the wall. Lucas sighs softly, then pushes himself to his feet. “I’ll just grab that water.” He doesn't want to leave but he kind of needs a little space too. Everything feels thick, like he’s walking through molasses. It seems to get worse the further away from Eliott he gets. 

In the kitchen he finds who he assumes to be Eliott’s parents, along with a younger girl of about fifteen, who must be his sister. “Ah-- hello?” He doesn’t know why he’d expected the house to be empty, but clearly he’s an idiot. Of course they’re not going to leave their son to his business when he’s going through… whatever this is that he’s going through.

“Oh!” Eliott’s mom spins around to face him. She has the same coloured hair as Eliott and her angular face is tired with stress and the beginning signs of age, particularly at the corner of her mouth and around her eyes. She’s beautiful, even as run down as she is, but then Lucas would expect nothing less for someone who gave birth to, and passed genes onto Eliott. She’s an omega, which settles something within Lucas’ chest immediately. She smells like autumn; pumpkin spice and fallen leaves. There’s a distinct note to it that reminds him of Eliott’s scent and just being in the room with her makes him feel a little better for leaving his boyfriend in bed.

“Lucas,” Eliott’s father gives him a small nod of acknowledgement. There is grey running deep into his black hair and beard, and his face is soft where Eliott’s mother is more sharp. His scent is thick, peppery but not unpleasant at all. He’s an alpha but nothing about his expression or stance screams anger or annoyance or even frustration. If anything he looks more worried than Eliott’s mom. Lucas is beginning to see why Eliott doesn’t subscribe to a lot of the traditional family values that the rest of society enjoy.

“You’re awake!” The younger girl jumps off of her chair and practically runs to his side, a bouncing bean of energy. Her hair is short and choppy, a little similar to Eliott’s style but much lighter, possibly bleached. She’s small and stocky for her age, with a round face and large, beaming eyes. Lucas blinks at her helplessly as she grabs onto his wrist and pulls him all the way across the kitchen, until she can quite literally manhandle him into a chair at the table where she’d been sat with her mother before he entered. “It’s about time! We’ve been waiting ages. I’m sure Eliott hasn’t shut up about me, but this is our mom, her name is Delphine, and this is our dad, Adam.”

“Stephanie!” Delphine chastises, rolling her eyes. “We’ve had this discussion, you don’t yank people around when you do not know them!”

“Well duh,” Stephanie raises a single eyebrow, almost patronisingly, in her mother’s direction. “But this is  _ Lucas. _ He’s Eliott’s mate, that makes him family, and  _ that _ makes him known.”

Lucas feels like someone has dumped him into the washing machine and pressed ‘quick spin.’

“I’m sorry--  _ what  _ did you say?” Lucas twists in his seat to look around at all three of them, eyes wide. 

“ _ Stephanie _ .” The two adults in the room groan at the same time, before turning to Lucas placatingly. “It’s just a temporary bond, it’ll fade. There’s nothing set in stone. She’s just a little... dramatic.”

“I don’t-- I’m--  _ what _ ?”

The family exchange loaded glances.

“We know this might be a little difficult to hear after having only just found out about him being bipolar, but when Eliott experiences an episode sometimes it triggers a rut. Neither of you were to know this of course. It doesn’t happen regularly,” Delphine assures him, while Lucas is perhaps turning a newly discovered shade of red. “And it wouldn’t have affected anything about that-- that  _ night _ you two shared, other than the fact that because he was technically in the beginning stages, when he bit you it formed a temporary mating bond.” 

“Oh my god.” Lucas is suddenly glad Stephanie had forced him into a chair. “Did I-- I mean.  _ Oh my god _ . I should have known something was wrong, I should- I-” He blinks at them until Adam pushes himself away from the sink to press a hand to his shoulder.

“Hey, stop. Don’t blame yourself. It’s like when omegas are in the first phase of their heat, there’s absolutely no changes that would affect the way Eliott sees you, or the way he acts. It might make him a little more excitable, and maybe more protective, but everything that happened was consensual unless he tells you otherwise. When we say the beginning stages we literally mean the first hour or two.” 

Lucas is torn. On the one hand, he’s absolutely mortified that he’s getting a sex talk from Eliott’s parents with Eliott’s  _ sister _ in the room. On the other, he needed to hear it otherwise his heart might have actually given out with panic. 

“See what you’ve done?” Delphine glowers at Stephanie. “We could have handled this a lot smoother if you hadn’t just dumped it on him!”

“Whatever.” Stephanie sighs loudly, hands on her hips. “Anyway I made breakfast!”

“Are you as bad as Eliott is at cooking?” It’s out before he can stop it and he mentally blames the fact that he’s still in shock. There’s silence for a single heart pounding second before Eliott’s alpha father bursts into what can only be described as  _ giggles _ . Yeah this definitely explains some stuff about Eliott. 

“See!” Stephanie beams. “He fits right in!” 

She dances to the oven and pulls out a tray of bacon, cooked to perfection. The scent floods the kitchen and Lucas’ mouth floods with hopeful saliva.

“Actually I just came out to get some water for Eliott,” Lucas says, ignoring the rumble of his stomach, and twisting his fingers together in his lap. “I should probably get back to him. I don’t want him to think that i’ve left?” Delphine gives him a fond pat on the head.

“You’re eating. You need energy too. If you’re really going to commit yourself to this-- and we hope that you do, Eliott has been so happy since he met you-- then you have to know you can’t put your life on hold for him all the time. Care for him, yes. But you must also care for yourself.” She pours him two glasses of orange juice and a glass of water, setting both the water and one of the oranges to the side, presumably for when he goes back to Eliott. Under her narrowed gaze he drains half the juice in his own glass, only stopping when she nods in satisfaction, and moves away to help Stephanie assemble the sandwiches. 

“What exactly _ is _ happening?” Lucas asks, watching them orbit the kitchen and each other like a well oiled machine. “I don’t know much-- anything really-- about what having bipolar disorder means.” It’s hard to ask, not because he’s embarrassed, but because it’s difficult to admit to these people who care so much for their son, that Eliott hadn’t trusted Lucas enough to talk to him about this. It’s a reminder that Lucas hadn’t been acting like the safe space he should have been. 

“Well,” Adam sits down opposite him with a mug of coffee that Lucas eyes enviously only for a second before he snaps out of it and forces his mind to focus. “Eliott will probably want to tell you the details himself if I know him at all, but the gist of it is that it’s a mood disorder. He has periods where he’s experiencing mania-- meaning that he’s more active than usual, and periods where he’s depressed.”

“This is the depression,” Lucas guesses, worry curdling with the juice in his stomach. “What do I do?”

“There isn’t anything you can do, other than wait it out.” Adam glances over at Delphine, who is watching their exchange carefully. “Before Lucille left you with us she said something about wanting to speak to you. Maybe on Monday it’d be a good idea to reach out, hmm?”

Lucas nods as Stephanie comes over to slide a plate in front of him. His body remembers exactly how hungry it had been as soon as he focuses on the sandwich.

By the time he’s finished his breakfast his neck is hurting again, and as soon as Adam notices him touching the bandage he ushers Lucas away from the table. “I know we haven’t had much time to talk, but the gist of it is that a newly formed bond, temporary or not, requires closeness for at least 48 hours after it’s formation. That’s why you fainted yesterday evening, and why Lucille had you brought here. I’d say to be safe you could do with sticking around Eliott until Sunday night, but we’ll see how you feel, alright?” Lucas nods, grimacing a little as the pain in his neck tightens. He stands, taking both drinks Delphine had left for him, and starts to leave.

Stephanie corners him before he can quite make it to the doorway. She’s got a sandwich wrapped in clingfilm in her hands.

“He probably won’t want to eat.” She says, voice quiet. Her eyes dart over his shoulder to where her parents are still sat at the table. “But, can you try anyway? Maybe if it’s you--” she clears her throat and clenches her jaw. “Anyway.” She smiles, and somehow it isn’t forced. He has to wonder who the Demaury siblings bribed to both get smiles that resemble the summer sun. “Just try. But don’t feel bad if he won’t eat yet.” 

Lucas takes it from her with a grateful nod, tucking it into his elbow so he can carry everything back in one trip. 

Eliott is either asleep, or doing a very good job of pretending, when Lucas pushes the door open. He sets both drinks and the sandwich on the bedside table and then crawls back into bed. Eliott still has his back to Lucas, but Lucas is content to wait. He has a lot to think about anyway.

Logically he’s aware that what Eliott’s parents said to him is 100% accurate. Neither heats nor ruts work the way they do in porn. There’s a build up for both. Lucas’ most recent heat was different, because it was triggered by stress and the mess that is his hormonal system, and so it progressed at a faster rate, but even then it wasn’t bad enough for them to give in to the urge to sleep together. Eliott’s rut, if it had literally just begun when they were on the boat, wouldn’t have even started having much of an impact on his own body for a few more hours, by which point Eliott had been running around naked. 

When they’d had sex the consent had been explicit for both of them. And yet, he really needs to hear that from Eliott himself. The whole point of consent is that only the people involved can truly give it, and so as nice as it was of Eliott’s parents to reassure him, he still feels panic in the pit of his stomach. 

Lucas sighs into the bedsheet, rolling onto his stomach and burying his face into a pillow and breathing in Eliott’s scent. He doesn’t smell much different, there’s still a very slight tang of metal in the air, which he assumes is either related to Eliott’s bipolar episode, or to a lingering rut scent even though Eliott’s rut has finished. Alpha ruts don’t last as long as heats do, they only take up about a day or so, and after the first half of a day of build up the second half is usually only intense until they’ve knotted. Eliott might have only been at the beginning of his rut but he’d knotted Lucas three times, which had probably put a stop to it pretty quickly. He’s attended enough health classes that it was permanently seared into his brain, and for once he’s grateful. 

How is Eliott going to take all of this? Will he blame Lucas? Will he blame himself? Will he want the bond gone as soon as possible? When the teeth marks have left and Lucas’ neck is fully healed it’ll dissolve like wet tissue paper in water. Until then, they’ll have an awareness of each other that they didn’t possess before, like last night when Eliott had first bitten him; Lucas had thought he’d felt something at the back of his mind, but he hadn’t had chance to focus on it. In addition to the awareness, other people won’t find their scents as attractive anymore and their cycles will sync-- although admittedly this last one probably won’t have chance to kick in before the mark heals. 

Whatever happens, Lucas tries to force himself to feel ready to face it. Ready to listen to Eliott, ready to talk to Lucille, if he needs to. He turns his head to look across the bed at Eliott who is so still that in other circumstances Lucas would be afraid that he’d died. He can feel the bond between them, infant new and still settling, but it’s enough that Lucas can feel Eliott’s heart beat like an echo over his own.

Yeah. He’s ready. Whatever it takes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not the angst fest you thought it was gonna be huh? TRICKED YOU! i mean its not a walk in the park either haha but its not lucas crying alone on a couch which is always a blessing! like i said before im moving a bit further from canon but still following the same sort of timeline and what not, so things that happened in canon can very well still pop up, just with a different spin on them.
> 
> it's probably not as polished as it could be, im superrrr tired and i just dont have the energy! but i hope you guys enjoy it regardless. thank you guys for your support last chapter, i can see why fic writers find cliffhangers addictive haha, its fun to watch the reactions! 
> 
> p.s. @gosia, dont you worry, its coming reaaaaaal soon mwahaha.


	20. Chapter 20

Saturday creeps by. He spends the majority of it in bed with Eliott, with breaks every couple of hours to stretch his muscles, eat something and get to know Eliott’s family. He uses the bathroom connected to Eliott’s room to shower, and to get a proper look at his neck for the first time since Friday. The bite is obvious against his skin, like he knew it would be. Eliott’s teeth _had_ broken through the surface, but only just. The area around it is a little raised, mottled blue and purple. He shivers as he runs the tips of his fingers over the small bump of it, and the slightly indented grooves Eliott’s teeth had left. The bandage had just been a precaution, and he takes it off, leaving it on the sink when he goes back to the bedroom.

Eliott is sat up in bed when Lucas pushes the door closed behind him, and Lucas feels himself light up at the sight of him eating the sandwich that has been waiting for him since this morning. It’s close to 8pm now, and while Eliott has continued to drink almost all of the glasses of juice and water that Lucas has brought him, this is the first thing he’s eaten all day.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of mattress. He takes a moment to study his boyfriend. Eliott looks soft, fluffy and tired, but he does look more alive than he had this morning. The shadows under his eyes aren’t as pronounced, and his eyes don’t look as vacant.

“A little better.” Eliott responds, then glances up. It’s the first time he’s properly looked at Lucas with the light on all day and Lucas can see the moment that Eliott registers the mark on his neck. “Holy shit.”

Lucas blushes, self consciously tugging at the neck of his borrowed sweater. He’d stolen it from Eliott’s closet so he could have his own clothes washed when Eliott’s mother offered. It’s very loose on him, revealing his collar bones and the slopes of his shoulders.

“Lucas,” Eliott shakes his head, one hand lifting as if to touch the bite from across the space between them, but he yanks it back down to his side before it even gets close. “Does it hurt?”

“No!” Lucas scoots further up the bed so they’re sat opposite each other. He offers his palm, waits for Eliott to hesitantly take it, and then presses Eliott’s fingers to the bite mark. Electricity shoots between them, and Lucas has to bite his lip hard to prevent a whimper escaping. Eliott doesn’t look like he’s doing much better. There’s a pause while they both struggle to drag their brains back into their bodies. Eliott’s hand is still clasped on Lucas’ neck. “It doesn’t hurt at all.”

“That isn’t an ordinary bite.” Eliott points out needlessly. They can both feel it, the pulse of a bond between them. It’s newly formed, so not at full strength yet, but when they’re touching they can feel how vibrant it is, and what it has the potential to grow into. There are words waiting to be spoken. Words neither of them are ready for.

“Nope,” Lucas takes a deep breath, steeling himself. “Apparently your rut started just before so-”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Eliott’s eyes dart up to meet Lucas’ and Lucas is horrified to see that Eliott is on the verge of tears. “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I’m such a-- you must hate me. You _should_ hate me. I violated you! I forced a bond!”

“No!” Lucas repeats. He kneels quickly, he’s taller like this and he pulls Eliott in until the alpha’s face is pressed to Lucas’ chest and he can wrap his arms around Eliott’s head. He cards his fingers through Eliott’s hair, as Eliott’s own hands come up, hesitantly at first, to rest on Lucas’ hips. “No, Eliott. I’ve spoken to your parents and I’ve done some research while you were sleeping. If anyone was being violated, it was yo--”

“We’re not going to sit here and argue whose been most hurt by this, look at your fucking neck. I knew I would ruin this. I _knew_ it. I just hoped i’d have chance to- to-- I don’t even know. To convince you I was worth it-- or-- or just to get a few more weeks with you--”

“ _Eliott._ You didn’t do anything I didn’t want. This bite? I love it. I never want it to heal. And I love the bond too.” Lucas pulls gently at his two handfuls of hair to try and get the point across. “Do you know how fucking good it felt? When you bit me? Do you know how hard I came, just from that?”

“But--”

“No.” Lucas shakes his head. He refuses to be moved on this. “If you feel that what I did to you was wrong, I understand that. You were in rut. If you feel sad because you wish you’d had chance to tell me what you wanted to tell me before Lucille got there first, I understand that too. But you don’t get to sit there and tell me what I feel. What I feel _for you_.” He tugs on Eliott’s hoodie until Eliott leans back again. It breaks Lucas’ heart to see that he’s crying properly now, and Lucas feels an answering prickle in his own eyes.

“You _didn’t_ do anything wrong, Lucas. You said you’d spoken to my parents, didn’t they tell you that you had no way of knowing?”

“Yeah,” Lucas sniffles hard. He wants more than anything to be strong. To be enough for Eliott to lean on, but there’s no way he can not cry, not when Eliott looks so lost. He feels the echo of it as an ache across the bond, and as an ache in his heart too. “Yeah. And they also said that there was no way for you to realise either.”

“I should have-”

“You _couldn’t_ have.”

I love you, he wants to say. _I love you I love you I love you._ He wants to scream it. He wants to whisper it. He wants to write it in ink on his own forehead, so that every time Eliott looks at him he has to acknowledge how Lucas feels. He wants to write it on Eliott’s too, so that whenever Eliott looks at himself in a mirror he is reminded of how much Lucas loves him.

This isn’t the right time though. He doesn’t want Eliott to think he’s just saying it to appease him.

“You really don’t mind the bite?”

“I love it. I wouldn’t lie to you about something like this.” Lucas presses the promise into a kiss and then leans across to plant it on Eliott’s forehead, before settling back on his haunches so they’re back to a more even height.

“At least it explains why I’m feeling better already,” Eliott sighs and the draft of it tickles Lucas’ cheek, He is rubbing at his eyes with a pale hand and Lucas is tempted to grab onto him again because he can see Eliott is shaking a little, but he forces himself to stay put, to give Eliott space.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t happen often, but when a rut does trigger with an episode they tend to, I don’t know, cancel each other out a bit? I’m not sure. I’ve had doctors try to explain it to me but it’s never really stuck. Something about the different hormones needed. The mania triggers the rut, but then the rut off-sets the depression. It doesn’t remove it, just reduces it. If the rut hadn’t triggered I probably would have been laid in bed for at least a week.”

“Well… that’s good, isn’t it?” Lucas hazards, unsure if he’s stepping on the right stones here, if they’re all solid or if one is going to send him tumbling into cold water.

“Yeah.” Eliott gives a short laugh. “Yeah. But it’s not what will happen every time. There isn’t a ‘press here for the easy way out,’ button, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“No, no of course not.” Lucas crosses his legs again, trying to find a comfortable position when all he wants to do is wrap himself around Eliott. _Space_ , he tells himself. _Give him space if he wants it_.

Eliott notices, of course. It would be hard not to, Lucas is anything but subtle and he wears his need for physical contact across his face. Eliott opens his arms for Lucas and Lucas goes eagerly, burrowing into Elliot’s natural warmth, all thoughts of space forgotten. In this position, with Eliott’s arms around him and Lucas pressed into every crevice of his boyfriend’s body that he can find, the bond between them sings.

 

They spend the rest of the night wrapped up together. Eliott still feels down, even if it isn’t as down as he could have felt, and he isn’t very talkative, but just being close helps the both of them.

The next day is much of the same. Eliott seems to spend the majority of it contemplating something, and eventually, in the evening, he turns to face Lucas where they’re sat on the couch. He thinks it must be positive that Eliott has agreed to leave the bed, but Lucas is a little nervous too; Eliott’s family have gone out for dinner, so it’s just the two of them. If anything were to change, now, with Eliott, Lucas would be the only one around and he isn’t anywhere near as clued up as he feels he needs to be for that.

“My mom mentioned something about Lucille wanting a word with you.” Perhaps Eliott is psychic. Or maybe it’s just the bond, but either way he seems to be able to read exactly what Lucas is thinking.

“Oh.” Lucas frowns, trying to think of a way out of it. “Yeah. I haven’t really thought about it. If feels kind of weird, meeting up with your ex.”  

“I know. But I think it would be good for you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. She has a lot of insight into what it’s like to be in a relationship with me. Whether it’s worth it or not.”

“Don’t say that, Eliott. It’s worth it.”

“Just speak to her. Make your choice afterwards.”

“I’ve already made my choice. You’re good for me. I’d like to think i’m good for you too.”

Eliott looks at him. “Too good for me maybe.” Lucas wonders if there is a limit on the amount of times a heart can break per day. He wonders if he’ll ever get used to the way that Eliott can seem so confident and yet still be so unsure of himself.

“Eliott, please.” Lucas burrows into his side, nudging at his arm until he lifts it and wraps it around Lucas’ shoulders. They both relax a little. They can't help it. It's instinctual. “I don’t like it when you’re down on yourself.”

“Okay.” Eliott exhales heavily and Lucas decides to revisit this later. If he must make it his life goal to ensure that Eliott is fully aware of what he means to Lucas, then so be it. “But speak to her anyway. For my own peace of mind.”

“Alright.” He agrees begrudgingly. “I called Alice earlier to give her an update like she asked and she’s gotten me tomorrow of school in case the bond hasn’t fully settled. I’ll do it then. And… I’ve also asked her to set a meeting up for me, with my mom.”

Eliott’s gaze, which had been wandering, snaps back to him. “You have?”

“Yeah.” Lucas smiles up at him from where his chin is resting on Eliott’s chest.. “I’m nervous, but I think it’ll be the closure I need. To find out why everything happened the way it did, you know?” Eliott nods. “She hasn’t got back to me yet but I’ll keep you updated.” He had also called Mika to inform him of the situation before Alice could. Mika would never have let him live that down. He'll speak to Yann and the boys later. They’d been expecting him to be with Elliot all weekend anyway so not hearing from him won't be a surprise.

They watch something shitty on TV until Eliott’s parents come back, and then move back into the bedroom because Eliott isn’t up for dealing with more than one person at a time. When Lucas wakes up the next morning with a text from Lucille on his phone, asking for a time and place, he doesn’t want to leave. He potters around the house for a few hours, making excuses to hang around. When he finally can’t put it off any longer he dresses in his own clothes, freshly washed, with the addition of a scarf to hide his neck. He stands by the bedroom door, half in, half out, desperate for another reason to delay. Eliott is still in bed, eyes open but fixed on the ceiling.

“Just go,” Eliott interrupts his bout of indecision.

“Huh?”

“I can feel you hovering. Just go, meet up with her. I won’t die if you leave me alone for five minutes. The bond has settled, it’s fine.” He rolls onto his side, facing away from Lucas before Lucas even has time to flinch.

“Eliott-”

“Lucas. _It’s okay._ I’ll feel worse if you stay when I know that your worry is the only reason why.”

Lucas swallows down the lump in his throat before it has a chance to choke him. He goes without another word.

 

He waits for Lucille outside of a cafe, tearing a piece of complimentary bread between his fingertips until only crumbs remain. When she arrives she takes the seat opposite him and, after one look at the bread, brushes it off the table. Lucas opens his mouth to protest but thinks better of it. It’s not like he was going to eat it anyway, he’d just be arguing for the sake of it.

“Thank you,” he starts with. “Eliott’s parents told me that you’re the one who got me to Eliott, I don’t know what I’d have done without you.”

“Died of shock, probably.” She isn’t even exaggerating. He’s seen the news reports. He isn’t sure how aware Eliott is of the whole situation, but he hasn’t mentioned Lucas’ collapse since this morning, and Lucas doesn’t want to bring it back into focus again just in case.

“Yes, well. Thanks for not leaving me to, you know, _that_.” She nods at him, and they exchange awkward glances. “You wanted to speak?”

“Yeah. You know,” she pauses to take a sip from the drink she’s brought with her in a cardboard cup. “I want to hate you. I _do_ hate you. This thing between the two of you? I didn't see it coming. Maybe that's on me, it's definitely on Eliott. But it's on you too. Just because you weren't the one in a relationship doesn't mean you’re blame free.”

Lucas can feel his shoulders curling up towards his ears. It's what he's been expecting. He doesn't know why it hurts so much. This is Lucille, the girl Eliott had still been dating when he first kissed Lucas. He remembers being so jealous of her. He remembers hating her then, like she hates him now. He also remembers thinking that had he been in her position he would be clinging onto Eliott with everything he had too. With every bone in his body. Every beat of his heart. It must hurt to have done that. To have clung, to have tried so hard to drag Eliott back, and to have failed.

“Before you collapsed I was ready to read you the riot act. I was ready to tear you to pieces, to tell you that Eliott doesn’t give a shit about you.” Lucille meets his eyes as she talks, and her face, for the most part, is stone. “I don't think you understand how tempting it was to leave you there.  I'm not a bad person. I've never intentionally hurt anyone in my life. Do you know how scary that is? To be so tempted, to understand that if anything happened to you, Eliott would never recover, that he'd never forgive me or himself... and _still_ be as tempted?” Lucille swallows and it looks like it hurts. Lucas knows the feeling. He isn't sure what to say. He isn't sure what she wants to hear. “That's why I know that you're different. We were together for five years. That's a long time, Lucas. We were together for over one thousand eight hundred days, And in that time frame I asked him to bite me two hundred times.  I know it isn't the same, the bond I mean, for a beta and an alpha-- I know it's different, less intense I think, but it would have been good anyway. Do you know how many times he refused? Two hundred and one. The last time, I didn't even have to ask. I opened my mouth, he looked at me and just said _no_.”

Lucas tries to digest this. To settle this new information into the space of his heart that Eliott occupies. In a way it doesn't surprise him, now that he thinks about it he can't remember ever wondering whether Eliott had bit Lucille, or whether they’d mated.

“The fact that he's been with you for what? Two weeks? Fourteen days? I bet you didn't even have to ask. I bet it was instinct.” She shakes her head. “I envy you.”

“I’m sorry.” It's all he can say. He doubts it means much coming from him, even though he is sorry about the way that their relationship had started, and sorry that Lucille had been hurt. It doesn’t matter how bad he feels about it however, because if he had the chance to do it again he would, if only to make sure that the outcome was consistent. He’s selfish, at heart.

“How is he?” At last, a question he feels more capable of answering.

He clears his throat. “He's been sleeping a lot.”

“That's normal,” she purses her lips. “It's good that he has you as well as his parents. I think it's hard sometimes, for him to trust them to--  no, that's the wrong word. Not trust. For him to _allow_ them to take care of him. I think he finds it easier to pretend, when he's around them, that everything is okay. He doesn't like it when they worry. He doesn't like it when anyone worries but it's different with them because they leave him alone a lot and he likes his space so he doesn't want them to think he can't handle it.” Lucille inhales deeply, eyes roaming the street just to avoid having to look Lucas in the face for too long. “That means you have a lot of responsibility now. He’s going to need you.”

“What do I do?”

“There's no magic formula. Be patient, you won't be able to understand everything or succeed at everything on the first try. Do your research, ask questions when he wants to answer them, but make sure that you read up on the symptoms so you know what to look for; when he’s not well, or when he’s too well. Try not to rush him, if he wants to sleep let him sleep. If he doesn't want to talk don't make him talk. Sometimes you'll feel powerless, that's just the way it is. Just be there for him, but only when he wants or needs it. He’ll always come back to you. Enjoy the good moments, there will be plenty. You’ll see.”

 

When he parts with Lucille, he checks his phone. There is nothing from Eliott, but there is a missed call from Alice and so he calls her back.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Alice, you called me?”

“Ah, Lucas! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I’ve managed to pull some strings. How would you feel about seeing your mom today?”

“ _Today?_ ”

“Today. In an hour, in fact.”

 

The bus journey to the clinic had only taken twenty minutes. He hadn't realised how close he had been living to where she was staying until he got off at the stop. He had sat outside the clinic on one of the benches provided, for another twenty minutes before he had managed to build up the courage to go to the front door. There had been paperwork to sign and a visitor's permit to be photographed for, since, as a family member, he can technically come back for longer visiting hours and use the ID as a key card when there aren’t as many staff around.

He uses the permit to get through to the ward after putting his phone on silent, as per regulation. It doesn't look anything like he thought it would. The walls are not sterile white and neither is the floor. Everything is painted in shades of yellow, orange and cream and there are murals which look like they have been drawn by children in all of the corners. The building is set out like a big square with a courtyard in the middle. On three of the four sides the walls are made of windows so that almost every corridor you go down has a view of greenery. He takes a minute to stand there, at one of the windows, looking out onto the sun drenched grass and stone. The yard is split in two. One half is made up of grass and flower beds while the other is concrete and houses a number of large tables and their accompanying chairs.

His heart feels like it is about to give in when he finally pushes himself away from the wall and towards the little cafe-like nook in the corner of the room he’s in. He wants to call Eliott for a pep talk, but at the same time he doesn’t know how Eliott would feel about that, considering where he is, and anyway he doesn’t want to risk waking his boyfriend up if he’s dropped off to sleep.

It doesn't feel real until he’s sat in front of his mother for the first time in years. Until he's looking into his own eyes on her face. Her hair is blonder then he remembers, and her face is kinder. There are so many questions he wants to ask, so many answers he deserves, so much he wants to apologise for, and so much he wants her to take responsibility for. In the end though it's too hard to start speaking. Every word trembles like an earthquake on his tongue and his lips refuse to give way to a rockslide. His body is a lock to which a key has never been forged.

Luckily, his mother does not have the same reservations. Her mouth trembles like his does, but unlike Lucas she allows herself to speak.

“You look good.” She smiles at him, and something in his chest cracks loose, and he goes from not being able to speak to not being able to stop.

“I think it’s easy to look good when the last time you saw me I was a crying thirteen year old.”

“Lucas-”

“I mean. What did you expect? That I’d never recover from that? That when you finally saw me again I’d be a mess, crying for you still?”

“No, I-”

“I don’t even know why I’m here,” it’s a lie, but one she believes. He can see it in the way her eyes cloud with tears. “I should go.” He doesn't even know why he says it. He doesn't mean it. The whole point of coming here was to make amends, or to at least get some answers, and so leaving now makes no sense. But his head hurts and his heart hurts, and he's panicking.

“No! No, please! Just. Talk to me. Let me talk. Anything.” She half stands when he does, her every movement mirroring his. God. She still smells like he remembers, like home. There is no other word to describe it that does it justice.

He inhales, locking that scent into his lungs, and allows himself to sit again.

“Okay?” She checks, lowering herself down centimetre by centimetre as if she expects him to try to bolt again.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.”

The silence is tense between them, broken only by the laughter of people sat at other tables and the sound of their own breathing. “Why haven’t you reached out?” It’s the most important question, the one that’s been playing on his mind for practically forever. His mother just looks at him. There’s something in her eyes, something like confusion, or sorrow. Both, maybe.

“You don’t remember.”

“Remember what?”

“Lucas. Darling. You asked me to leave you alone.”

“What?” Lucas blanches. No way. No _way_. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You did. Twice. The first time I called you after I was put on the right medication we spoke for five minutes and then you said that it was all too much and you hung up on me. I tried to call again but I couldn’t get through for two months. I even spoke to Alice, I was so worried. She just said I needed to give you time, so I did. I kept calling once a month, just in case and the next time you picked up everything seemed alright. You talked about school, and about your friends. And then you got real quiet towards the end and I knew. I just knew what you were going to say. ‘Mom,’ you said, ‘mom I think it’s better if we don’t speak for a bit.’” She’s smiling as she says it and Lucas can’t understand why when it feels like his heart it tearing itself into a hundred bloody chunks, so he can’t even imagine what’s going on in _her_ chest. “You told me you loved me, and that you missed me but that thinking about me everyday was making things worse. So I told you I loved you too, that I’d be here if you wanted to reach out, and we said goodbye.”

“No.” Lucas shakes his head. “No I wouldn’t… why would I… I don’t understand. I don’t remember that. I don’t remember any of that.”

“Oh, honey.” She leans forward on the table, resting her elbows against the tabletop. “I’m not surprised. You were traumatised, you were grieving, you were alone. I can’t even imagine what would have been going through.”

“But-- but I just left you?” He mirrors her position unconsciously.

“To be fair,” she reaches over and takes his hand, clasping it between hers. “I left you first.”

His mind is working overtime, trying to connect this new information with any memory he can find, but he just keeps drawing blanks. There’s nothing. And yet it doesn’t surprise him as much as it ought to. It’s like something is sliding into place in his brain and even though he doesn’t actually remember it something within him knows that it’s true.

“You probably blocked the memory out.”

“This whole time I thought you weren’t reaching out because you didn’t want to.”

“No, Lucas. Never that.” She squeezes his hands gently.

“How can you forgive me?”

“Are you kidding me?” She laughs, a surprisingly happy sound. “I should be asking you that. I didn’t take my medication when I should have and it spiralled from there. When your father left I lost control of everything. I should have been stepping up to look after you, but I couldn’t look at you properly when you reminded me so much of him.”

“It’s okay.” He bites his lip.

“It isn’t, but I appreciate you saying so. Look, we’re human. We make mistakes. Yes, I should have taken my pills in the first place, but looking back I think an equally big mistake was agreeing to let you go when you asked. You were only thirteen and I should have fought harder. Especially knowing what I know now, that you don’t even remember saying it. It was probably just the whim of a kid who was pissed at his mom and wanted to lash out in his own way. I’m the adult here, I should have known better but I was so wrapped up in guilt that I decided the best thing I could do for you, was to stay away.”

 _I don’t need crazy people in my life._ They’d had the same thought on two different angles, in the end. Lucas is more determined than ever to ensure that Eliott doesn’t slip through his grasp like his mother almost had. He won’t let Eliott pull away just because he thinks that it’s better for Lucas.

They’ve only been in the same room for about ten minutes and already something between them feels healed. His heart feels a little less heavy, and even though there’s still a lot of shit to get through, he thinks they’ll make it. It might take him a while to fully forgive her for leaving him in the first place, even if it wasn’t fully her fault, but it also might take him a while to forgive his younger self for pushing her further away and then having the gall to inconveniently forget about it.

“You’ve grown so much,” she says, lifting one hand and brushing it against his chin. “And you’re so handsome! Come on, tell me about your life. Fill me in on what I’ve missed.”

 

They talk for over three hours. He tells her about Eliott first, because Eliott is constantly on his mind and he’ll never pass up an opportunity to wax poetic. Coming out to her doesn’t even fluster him. She’d have known he was an omega the second she smelled him, but she hadn’t commeneted and so neither had he. They still have bridges that need mending over that topic, to help him reconcile his presentation in his head if nothing else. He isn’t magically okay with everything now, he’s still haunted by worries of being seen as weak. But those walls are coming down, brick by brick, and the more he talks to his mother, the faster they fall.

As for the boyfriend part, surprisingly enough it barely even registered as he said it. Technically he was aware that by using male pronouns he was coming out to her, but it felt so natural he didn’t pause to think about whether it was a good idea. For her part, she didn’t even blink. Her smile grew and grew the more he revealed of Eliott, of how they met and how he felt about him. He didn’t tell her about Eliott being bipolar, because he wasn’t sure if Eliott would be comfortable with that, and he didn’t tell her that they had a temporary mating bond either. Some things just felt too personal to talk about at such an early stage of their reconciliation.

When he’d told her about Mika she’d clapped her hands in delight. Lucas is afraid of the day they meet each other in person. He has a feeling it will be chaotic from the start.

By the time he leaves it’s dark outside, and cold enough that he’s extra glad of the scarf. He tucks his key card into his jacket pocket and digs for his phone in the front pocket of his jeans to turn it off of silent.

His stomach drops when he reads the front screen.

_Five missed calls from Delphine._

His fingers tremble as he hits redial.

“Lucas?” She answers immediately and the terror in her voice has his heart pounding in seconds. “Is Eliott with you?”

“What?” Lucas’ frown deepens. “No. I left him in bed when I went to see Lucille.” His chest clenches. “Is he not there?”

“Lucas I’m so sorry, I thought you’d told him!” She’s speaking so loud he has to lift the phone away from his ear to avoid a burst ear drum.

“Told him what?” There’s a creeping sense of dread crawling up his spine, wrapping itself around his throat in a snake-like coil.

“That the reason you fainted was because of how far Eliott stretched the bond! I just mentioned in passing that it was a good thing Lucille had been there otherwise who knows what would have happened, I was just trying to make conversation! To get him to open up a bit! He went all quiet and then asked for some soup, but while I went to make it he vanished. I was hoping he’d gone to find you, but it’s been two hours and I haven’t heard anything so I don’t know where else he could be.”

Shit. If Eliott had felt guilty before when they’d thought it was just a panic attack that had caused Lucas’ collapse then how much worse would he feel now? He’d already been blaming himself for the bite in the first place. This might just wreck him. There was a reason Lucas had been avoiding talking about it.

“Listen, it’s okay. We’ll find him. I can try to use the bond.”

“Will that work? It’s still so new.”

“I don’t think we have much of a choice. Call me if you hear anything.”

They both hang up.  

Lucas closes his eyes and tries to think. Where would Eliott go? Maybe that's a stupid question though, because the answer is really obvious. There was only one place Eliott had said he felt safe in, one place where he went to be alone.

Under the Bridge. _La petite ceinture_.

But would Eliott still go there when he knows that his mother has had Lucas’ contact information since this morning, and that Lucas is the only one who knows of its existence as a safe space for him? Or would he think that Lucas would give him up?  Lucas closes his eyes and focuses on the bond. He can't be sure that it will work, but then he can't be sure that he wouldn’t be wasting time if he were to run all the way to the bridge on a hope and a dream. It takes a moment, a long moment, but eventually Lucas starts getting a feeling deep in his gut that resonates but doesn't quite fit his own body. He follows it in his head, in his heart, and soon he has more than just a feeling; he sees flashes, images of brickwork and graffiti. _Yes._ He _must_ be there. Lucas recognises that artwork from the night of their first kiss.

When he starts running it is hard to stop. He forgets to pause at red lights. He forgets to look both ways. He focuses on the bond the entire time his legs push him closer and closer and as he gets nearer the bond strengthens, tightens, thrums with energy.

He can feel when Eliott starts to pay attention to him through his side. It's like another layer opens up. There are no words, just emotion, and Eliott is desperate. Desperately sad, desperate for Lucas to leave him alone and equally desperate for Lucas to find him. He falters as soon as he can feel Eliott, automatically slowing his speed so that he can try to get a better lock onto his boyfriend’s position to make sure he’s going in the right direction, and that Eliott hasn’t moved.

Something catches his attention from the corner of his eye, but by the time he glances up it’s too late.

There is a terrifying screech of brakes, and then the car hits him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know this is a cliffhanger of annoying proportions but there won't be a chapter tomorrow, and possibly saturday, there's only about three chapters left but im really struggling to keep up this pace. my hands ache from the typing and i ended up speaking half of this chapter into the voice to type translator on my laptop to try and give my hands a rest but i cant do that for the entire rest of the fic. so im taking a 24 hour break with very little typing, then i'll be back to it on saturday, but whether there's a chapter on saturday depends on how my hands feel and how much i get done. sunday at the latest, unless something goes catastrophically wrong. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed this chapter pals. i know its got a lot of stuff crammed into it but hopefully everything comes off well. its a little rocky and maybe a lil rushed bc i just. cannot face more typing to fix it yet haha, but i might circle back eventually to edit some more.
> 
> <3 <3 <3 (fun fact tho: despite my hands being shitty this is the longest chapter of the fic wtf)
> 
> p.s. @gosia. yes. that last line? thats my vengeance.


	21. Chapter 21

As the car hits him he manages to lift one leg off the ground so that he rolls up onto the hood instead of bouncing off of the front and onto the road. His fingers scrabble for any hold they can find, clinging to the windscreen wiper as soon as he manages to grasp it and wincing when it snaps off in his hand.

By some miracle the car hadn’t been going that fast, and the driver had managed to slam the breaks when he saw Lucas, so Lucas isn’t hit with the full brunt force that he could have been. It saves his life, but not his dignity, as he tumbles off up the windscreen and over the edge of the roof, smacking down onto the asphalt road with a skin numbing thump. His entire body hurts. He can already tell that within a few hours he will look like the human personification of a bruise. His jeans are ripped, along with one of the arms of his hoodie, and he can feel blood leaking from the side of his face but everything is one smear of pain and he can't tell whether it is from his nose or his mouth, or both.

It takes a few minutes for sound to return to the world. He can hear three distinct voices, each of them talking over one another, and none of them familiar. A car door slams. Someone swears. Someone starts speaking a one sided conversation, into to a phone presumably, calling the police or an ambulance perhaps. There is a single moment where Lucas is scared that being hit by the car knocked the sight right out of his head because all he can see are faint shadows moving at the edges of his peripheral vision. But then he realises he had closed his eyes in preparation for the impact with the floor and he's just forgotten to open them again. The light from the street lamps is so bright it almost hurts when he's finally brave enough to look.

He’s laying on his back and so the first thing he sees is the sky. There are no stars visible. He spends a moment cataloguing every bone in his body, running through from his toes to his legs into his chest down his arms and finishing with his skull. Nothing feels broken but then nothing feels particularly good either. His head is ringing… wait. No. That’s his phone. He can’t quite convince his hand to reach into his pocket to grab it though, and eventually it stops. Some distant part of him knows that it’s Eliott, even if he can’t see the screen of the phone to confirm.

Someone is kneeling by his side, and considering the look of annoyance crossed with guilt on the person's face, Lucas has a feeling that this is the driver of the car that hit him. He manages a weak smile. Lucas is the idiot who ran out into the middle of a road, without looking both ways. He's pretty sure he's the one at fault here. Lucas shifts as if to sit up but the man, a beta whose scent he can't quite place, presses carefully against his shoulders until he settles again.

“Are you okay? Just stay still, alright? Don't move a muscle, you might have broken something. The woman on the phone said it was important to make sure you weren't moved.” The man says, one hand still holding a phone up to his ear and the other fluttering helplessly over Lucas’ body.

“Mm,” Lucas let's out a soft grunt of pain. He’s peachy. Just peachy. Why does this never happen in the movies? When the protagonists are running towards their destiny, or to the love of their life, none of them get hit by a car, and he's pretty sure that he isn't the only one in this department who doesn't look both ways.

He closes his eyes again, ignoring the man when he tries to shake him gently, worried that Lucas is falling into  some kind of coma. _Eliott._ He’d been so close. He can feel it _._ He focuses in on the bond rooting it out through the pain and clinging to it with every ounce of strength in his battered body. It soothes some of the ache, washing through his bloodstream like a calm ocean wave. Or maybe not so calm, because now that he is actually putting an effort into channelling it there is an echo of panic and fear coming in clear from Eliott’s side. There is a sensation of moving too, but he doesn't understand why until he hears his name being called.

“Lucas!”

_Eliott._

His eyes shoot open again. He tilts his head to the side ever so slightly so he has a view of the street, and there, sprinting towards them, is his boyfriend. Eliott is drenched in sweat, he's panting, both from exertion and from panic, and there is a look in his eyes that Lucas never wants to see again. But then he doesn't really need to see it anyway, because he can feel it. With every step that Eliott takes, every inch closer he comes, the bond has less far to travel and the reverberation between them is louder. Everything within Eliott is screaming itself hoarse for Lucas.

Eliott falls to his knees by Lucas’ side, practically shoving the driver of the car out of the way before the poor man has even registered that somebody else is coming towards them. He doesn't try to move Lucas, suggesting that he's smarter than Lucas would be if this situation were reversed. And thank god it isn't. Lucas will take being hit by car any day of the week over watching the same happen to Eliott. He focuses on Eliott’s face as his boyfriend leans closer, hands hovering over Lucas’ skin but not quite touching, like he’s afraid that he’ll just make it worse.

“There’s an ambulance coming,” the driver informs Eliott, and by proxy Lucas too, although Lucas had already gathered as much. Eliott spares a second to glance at him, and then his eyes track to the empty car stuck in the middle of the road with a cracked windscreen and a broken wiper, and his gaze narrows. His eyes, and his scent, darken; a sun covered by storm clouds, vanilla extract laced with cyanide.

“You!” Eliott seethes. Lucas is a little mortified at how turned on he is by this version of Eliott. “You’re the one who hit him?”

“He-”

“Eliott.” Lucas interrupts the driver as he starts to attempt to defend himself. “Eliott, it wasn’t his fault. I'm the one who didn't look both ways. I ran out into the road. the fact that he stopped, or tried to at least, saved my life.” The gaze the Eliott has focused on the man reduces from deadly to merely threatening, and Lucas supposes he can’t ask for much more that that. All that really matters is that Eliott doesn't get himself arrested by attacking this man. But then Eliott turns that fierce glare in Lucas’ direction and Lucas swiftly changes his mind, desperately hoping that Eliott will go back to attacking the man. Preferably with real physical violence so he’ll be distracted and Lucas can crawl away to safety.

“What the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

“Err-”

“I’ll be over there.” The driver makes a hasty, and cowardly, if Lucas does say so himself, exit. _Traiter_.

“I can’t believe you--” Eliott visibly tries to wrestle with his self control, jaw clenched hard enough that Lucas worries for the state of his teeth.

“I-”

“--I’ve changed my mind,” Eliott says before Lucas can attempt another word. Eliott is holding himself carefully, like the world is fragile around him and he is a wrecking ball. One wrong move and everything shatters. “We can talk about this later. Don’t stress yourself, everything is going to be fine.” Easy for him to say considering that he wasn’t the one facing the wrath of Eliott at some as yet unnamed time and place.

He can hear the sirens now, somewhere close, and the reminder of what exactly he’s doing lying here in the middle of the asphalt sends a shudder of panic down his spine. “Hold my hand?” he asks, voice small, and he breathes a little easier when Eliott reaches out and gently folds their fingers together. Even this small act hurts, but Lucas refuses to show it in case Eliott feels guilty and pulls away. The pain is worth it.

By the time paramedics have arrived and loaded him into the ambulance the adrenaline is starting to wear off and Lucas feels a little cold and shaky. When Eliott climbs into the back of the vehicle with him, sitting at his side, still holding his hand but as out of the way of the paramedics as he can get, Lucas has to fight the urge to cry. He's in pain, but it's not that, really, and he's a little scared, but it's not that either. He feels overwhelmed; it's like on one side of his brain he’s hurting and stressed and on the other side Eliott is channelling every good feeling he's ever had through the bond, every smile, every laugh, every ounce of love. A kiss in the rain, a kiss covered in paint. An echo of a bite on pale skin;  rapturous rather than painful. It's all being pushed through, and Lucas doesn't know how to deal with the combination. He tries to focus solely on the good, but every time his eyes stray from Eliott’s face he remembers where he is and what’s happening and even though this is nowhere near deadly and he knows it-- there is a voice in his head that tells him he will die before he ever gets the chance to tell Eliottt he loves him. Eliott’s grip on his fingers tightens and Lucas drags his gaze back to his boyfriend, who is watching him with open concern. Belatedly Lucas realises Eliott is probably doing this on purpose because he’s as aware of the sheer depth of the panic that Lucas is feeling. He can sense it just as easily through the bond.

The ride to the hospital doesn't take long in reality, maybe about fifteen minutes, but it feels more like an hour in Lucas’ head. Time is passing slowly, like thick gravy pushing through a strainer with only half of the holes it should have. When they get there Eliott is practically pushed into the waiting room, and Lucas aches at the separation so much so that he almost lists his heart with the rest of his limbs when the nurse asks him where it hurts.

When Eliott is finally allowed back into Lucas’ room, Lucas has been forced to change into a papery hospital gown. It chafes against his tender bruises, an opposing force to the way that Eliott's presence  soothes Lucas’ tender heart.

“What did they say?” Eliott demands the second he crosses the threshold. He hesitates next to the bed, eyes darting from the visitors chair to Lucas  and back again, until Lucas holds his hands out and physically yanks Eliott onto the bed with him as soon as Eliott has taken hold. They settle together, with Eliott’s arms opening for just long enough to allow Lucas to wiggle into his embrace. Thank God there are no wires attached to Lucas’ body, because one or both of them would end up strangled on their quest to entwine themselves.

“I’m fine. I’ve been checked over and examined and other than some bad bruising and some cuts there’s nothing wrong. I’ve spoken to everyone I need to speak to too, including the police. There was some minor damage to the car but the driver says he doesn't care about money--  which is lucky considering I have none, and I’m obviously not pressing charges, so I’m just waiting to sign off on some paperwork and I can leave.”

“Oh thank god,” Eliott breathes a sigh of relief into Lucas’ hair, pressing his nose into the top of Lucas’ head and inhaling his scent. His arms tighten just a fraction, until Lucas lets out a small noise of complaint. “Is this okay? Do you want me to sit on the chair?”

“No.” Lucas grumbles. “I want cuddles.”

“...Right.” Eliott sounds as if he’s trying not to laugh, but Lucas is too tired and achy to try to turn around to check. He settles further into Eliott’s hold, breathing in his soft, sweet scent.

“Are you alright?” He finally asks the question that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. The only reason it’s taken so long is that this is the first time they’ve been alone since the accident and he didn’t want to bring Eliott’s private business up in front of strangers.

“Me?”

“Yeah, _you_. I got a call from your mom, she said you ran out of the house. She was frantic. They had no idea where you’d gone, which is why I was on my way to the bridge, I figured that’s where you would be and the bond suggested I was right, so-”

“So you ran as fast as your hedgehog legs could carry you right into the path of a fucking car.” Eliott sighs so deeply Lucas wonders how there’s any oxygen left in his blood cells, never mind his lungs.

“Well… yeah basically.” No point in lying.

“What am I going to do with you?” Eliott is shaking his head, Lucas can feel it. “I’m okay. A lot better than this morning actually. And I wanted to say sorry for that too, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“I shouldn’t have hovered like I did.” Lucas shrugs, then regrets it when it sends zigzags of pain through his back. “We’re only human. We make mistakes.” Lucas has a trailer full following him around these days, so if anyone should know, it’s him.

“Yeah,” Eliott acknowledges. “But it’ll happen again.” Lucas tries to turn to look at Eliott but his boyfriend keeps his hold loose enough not to hurt but tight enough that he can’t really move without hurting himself in the process. Without Eliott’s expression to clue him in, all he has is the bond. He tries to focus on it but there’s a sorrow there that hurts like he imagines a stab wound would, and he’s quick to redirect his attention to avoid the extra pain. When Eliott continues his voice is steady, a whole other story being told to the one the bond is screaming. “It will. I’ll snap at you, I’ll hurt you. I don’t know how to control it. I don’t want you to have to handle me when I’m like that; sometimes I’ll sleep for a whole week. I won’t do anything. Sometimes I’ll be excited for no reason. I’ll shout at you, and slam doors, I’ll leave without telling you where I’ve gone-- like I did today. You saw what that did to my mother. I have medication, to help handle it, but sometimes I won’t take it. And I’ll lie, when you ask if I have or not. I don’t want to scare you, or to see you sad. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Eliott,” Lucas sighs, as soon as Eliott seems to be done. “We’re dramatic little shits. I’ll slam as many doors as you, I bet. _More_ , even. I’ll give you the silent treatment. I’ll storm out.” Eliott doesn’t say a thing but the wave of denial that comes from the bond is staggering. “What, you don’t think I could hurt you as bad as you could hurt me? I mean, how about that time I told you I didn’t want crazy people in my life?” He feels the full body flinch that Eliott can’t hide at his words and throws caution to the wind, twisting around with a surprising amount of grace, until they’re awkwardly chest to chest, nose to nose. “You don’t think that haunts me, Eliott? I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since I found out about you. I don’t think I’ll ever regret anything as much as I regret saying that, especially when it isn’t true. I’m _so_ sorry.”

“But you meant it at the time.”

“Maybe. I’m not so sure, I don’t think so, but _maybe_. But I didn’t have all of the facts then even if I did mean it. I thought my mother had abandoned me Eliott, I thought she’d-- I don’t know. I was hurting, I’ve been hurting for a very long time, I guess, and it all came out in that conversation because everything else around me was unravelling and I couldn’t stop myself from speaking, and those words were-- they were cruel. I didn’t put any thought into them other than wanting to lash out.”

“What’s changed?” Eliott’s gaze is a laser beam. Lucas can feel it burning a hole through his skin everywhere it traces, but the heat is welcome.

“Well, other than everything that’s happened between us since then, I saw my mother today.”

“What?” Eliott’s jaw drops.

“Yeah.” Lucas sighs, but it’s a happy sound. “Yeah. And I realised that I haven’t had things straight in my head for a long time-- no, no no no don’t even make a gay joke here Eliott I swear to god--” Eliott’s mouth is twitching sporadically, and Lucas isn’t far behind, but he’s _trying_ to be serious. “She told me that the reason she’d stayed away for so long was because I asked her to. And I don’t remember that. I don’t. But I know it’s true. Maybe she shouldn’t have listened but-- don’t pull that face, I am aware she was the adult in the situation-- but she was scared too, and grieving for a bastard husband who left her, and a kid who got taken away from her. Like I said. We’re all human. But it got me thinking, I missed out on years with her because of a silly comment I made in the heat of the moment, with a thousand emotions raging in my newly teenage body. Then, four years later, I made a similar comment in the foyer, to a boy--” Lucas inhales ragedly. Now or never. _Now or never_ . _Say_ it. “To a boy I lo-- to a boy I liked.” He daren’t even look at Eliott. _Why can’t he say it._ Why does the thought of admitting how in love he is flood his brain with panic? Is it because he isn’t sure if Eliott is ready to say it back? “I almost lost him because of it and it wrecked me when he pulled away. It hurt. A lot. Even more so, when I found him kissing his ex at a party when he’d texted me to say that he needed time.”

Eliott looks stricken, and overwhelmed, when Lucas finally gathers the strength to meet his gaze, and-- and Lucas shakes his head quickly, determined to get this all out, to force a genre change in their relationship. _Tragedy, who? We don’t know her._

Man. He’s got to stop looking at tumblr memes one of these days.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. I have a point, I promise.” Eliott dips his head, cautious, but with a spark of hope in his ocean eyes where before there was none. “Every reason I could think of came back to how I wasn’t good enough.” Eliott opens his mouth. “I swear to god, Eliott, _let me speak_ .” He can’t help but laugh a little at the despondent look on Eliott’s face. “It was like, did you not want me anymore because I was an omega? Because I was taking drugs to control my presentation? Was it because I had an unwell mother and I might end up like her? It was like relationship trouble bingo. I just couldn’t figure out which line it was that I’d won--or in this situation, lost-- on. It was all about me. I didn’t think about what _I_ could have done to hurt _you_. Just like how I never really considered being the one to reach out to my mom, instead of wondering why she didn’t reach out to me. And we got back together and everything was fine, but I didn’t know that I still had things to apologise for.” Eliott opens his mouth again and god, Lucas is tempted to look around for some medical tape, but maybe that’s another issue. Maybe he needs to listen more too. So he doesn’t stop Eliott from interrupting this time.

“You can’t take all the responsibility for that. Some of it, yes, because it was a hurtful thing to say, but I understood why you said it, and I don’t hold it against you nearly as much as you seem to hold it against yourself.” Eliott strokes a single knuckle from Lucas’ temple, down to his chin and then on to his neck until he reaches Lucas’ pulse point. He presses a finger into the hollow of Lucas’ throat, feeling the unsteady pulse there. “What plays on my mind most now is the fact that you were so focused on me that you got hit by a car. I felt you in the bond, that’s why I left the bridge, to come and meet you halfway, but then practically the second I tuned in all I could feel was pain. For a moment I was scared that I was the one causing it. It wasn’t until I got there that I realised what had happened. If you hadn’t been chasing me, or using the bond to find me-- a bond which I created without your permission-- then none of this would have happened.”

“If you’re about to say some bullshit about how how this proves we shouldn't be together, Eliott I swear I’m going to go outside and get hit by another car, because that would hurt less. It was my fault for being an idiot, for not looking both ways, not yours, not the bond. Don’t try to use this as an excuse. And if you think I wouldn’t have been able to find you, even without the bond, then you’re an idiot. I knew it was the bridge as soon as I got off the phone with your mom, I just wanted to check and it was easier not to panic when I could feel you.”

“Part of me does want to say that,” Eliott admits, and it sends a pang of panic through Lucas’ stomach. “But a bigger part of me is too selfish. Maybe I should push you away, but I won’t. I can’t. Not again. I think it would kill me, even without the bond.” _That makes two of us._ “I thought you were dying. Just for a moment, but it was enough to know that I wanted to be in your life for the rest of _my_ life.”

“It sucks that it took a car accident to knock that into your head, but i’ll take what I can get.” Lucas gives in to temptation and leans in to kiss Eliott. It starts off soft, just lips against lips, but it escalates quickly, until their tongues entwine and Eliott is biting at Lucas’ bottom lip again. One of his hands comes up to cup Lucas’ neck, right over the bite mark, and his bones melt, leaving him a puddle of boy in Eliott’s lap.

“It’s not going to be easy, you know.” Eliott says, pulling back enough to speak.

“Nothing worth having ever is. As long as we’re together, I don’t care. We’ll take it day by day,” Lucas murmurs, pressing a butterfly kiss to the side of Eliott’s mouth and delighting in the slight blush that blooms on his boyfriend’s cheeks. “Even better, minute by minute.”

“Minute by minute.” Eliott confirms, wrapping an arm around Lucas waist and pulling him in for the world’s most careful hug.

“It starts right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so first off, you guys are the best. all your comments telling me to rest my hands meant the WORLD to me i want to hug each and every one of you. im also taking your advice to heart. ive managed to finish this chapter, still using quite a bit of voice to word typing, but im going to take another couple of days to write the next chapter. im not going to rush myself, especially bc this has a nice soft ending instead of a cliffhanger like last chapter. my hands are feeling a bit better but not 100% and i dont wanna push myself. im aiming for an update on either wednesday or thursday evening.
> 
> theres only like two chapters left after this im already is mourning. i dont want it to finish, but i am very ready for it to be done so i can move onto my next project!
> 
> p.s. i know nothing about the justice system's reaction surrounding an event like this, nor do i have any medical knowledge lmao, i did however look up how best to survive being hit by a car and apparently getting onto the hood is the best shot! so there is that :') but everything else i just made up so roll with it


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucas is discharged within the next hour, which is much quicker than they’d been told to expect.

Lucas is discharged within the next hour, which is much quicker than they’d been told to expect. It may or may not have something to do with the fact that within that time frame three nurses, on three separate occasions, have walked in on Lucas and Eliott making out on the bed despite Lucas’ bruises. Lucas maintains that they should have knocked, but Eliott just laughs at him and runs his fingers through Lucas’ make out messy hair.

They leave the hospital side by side. Eliott insists on paying for a taxi back to Lucas’ apartment even though Lucas says he’s fine to get the bus. He’s only limping a  _ little bit _ after all. Eliott waves him off, insisting it’s either a taxi or Eliott’s going to be carrying him the entire way home.  _ Bridal style _ . 

Lucas agrees quickly after that. Too many traumatising elevator related flashbacks. 

The walk to where the taxi is set to pick them up is slightly more stressful that it needs to be. Lucas is half clinging to Eliott’s side, partially because he needs a little help walking and Eliott has tucked an arm around his waist, and partially because he just really doesn’t want to be separated from Eliott, even for a second. This causes problems when they’re on narrow paths meant to be walked single file, and again when Lucas comes dangerously close to actually growling at a woman who tries to walk in between them when they’re stood at a pedestrian crossing. Eliott soothes him with a stroke of his knuckles over the bond mark, but Lucas can feel his metaphorical hackles rising until the woman rolls her eyes and goes around them instead.

When they walk through the door it’s almost 10pm and Mika and Manon are sat on the couch, watching something on Netflix. If Lucas weren’t feeling so tender and tired it might have been funny to see the way they both do a double take at the exact same time. It takes a good fifteen minutes to explain that everything is fine, really, and even then they only let Lucas go to his room when Eliott not so subtly reminds them that Lucas isn’t in great shape and is probably ready for a lie down. Mika flits to the kitchen to make him soup despite the late hour and Manon breaks out the good tea, and some of her homemade scones. Lucas feels incredibly touched and incredibly, weirdly, British. 

While they’re busy in the kitchen Eliott walks Lucas to his bed. He’s been supporting him carefully all the way from the elevator to the apartment and he doesn’t let go until Lucas is safely deposited under his cosy duvet. 

“I rang my mom while you were being checked over,” Eliott collapses onto the bed after flicking on the the desk lamp, lying parallel to Lucas but over the covers instead of under. “She’s worried about you. There might be an invasion of Demaury family members at some point in the next day or so, before they have to head back to the other house.” 

“Is she alright with you staying here tonight? I know you said you wanted to, but if you want to spend time with your family before they leave then I understand.” He can still remember the way that Delphine’s voice had shook when she’d called him to tell him Eliott was missing. Guilt sinks its claws into Lucas’ stomach, but before it can drag him too far under Eliott is reaching over to tug the duvet up a little further, even though it’s already almost at his chin. The movement quiets something deep in Lucas’s chest.

He gives Lucas an unreadable look, fingers smoothing the fabric. “You’re a part of my family, Lucas.”

“Oh.” Lucas’ blush could power a nuclear reactor. 

“I’ll see them another time. They understand how important it is for me to be here, with you. Even if I went back tonight, you’re all i’d be thinking about, they’d get no meaningful conversation out of me.”

“Alright.” They grin at each other in the semi darkness of the room. “I guess I should get a shower before ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ come in to read us a bedtime story,” Lucas sighs, stretching his arms over his head and wincing at the twinge of pain that this sparks. He wouldn’t put it past Manon and Mika to check in on them again, and Lucas is just too tired to deal with anyone other than Eliott.

“You literally just got under the covers, it won’t kill you to stink for one more night.” Eliott props himself up on one elbow so he can peer down at Lucas, eyes soft and half lidded.

“Yeah, but I don’t just smell of sweat, I smell of car accident and road and, I don’t know,  _ hospital _ .”

Eliott purses his lips, thoughtful. “Think they do a yankee candle scent in that?”

Lucas hits him with a pillow. His bruised arms don’t thank him for it but he has no regrets.

After half-wrestling the pillow from Lucas’ vengeful grasp, Eliott helps him to the bathroom, then sits on the toilet seat while Lucas showers. He pretends to be enthralled by something on his phone but Lucas is no fool. He sees Eliott sneaking glances. Lucas doesn’t mind, he likes it when Eliott looks at him, but he has a feeling that this time Eliott isn’t studying his butt, round and perky as it is. He’d taken a look in the mirror after shedding his clothes and there are large purple bruises wrapped around huge portions of his lower back, shoulders, thighs and hips, where he’d collided with the car and then the asphalt. His nose is a dark bloom on his face, still a little crusted with blood, and there’s a long scrape that might scar from his elbow down a couple of inches towards his wrist where the hoodie had ripped and left no protection for his body but his skin. His first glimpse of the mess the accident has left him with, under the unforgiving bathroom lights, had been a lesson in just how lucky he’d been to escape with the minor injuries he had. 

When Lucas is squeaky clean he steps out of the shower and reaches for a towel. Before his fingers have chance to grasp it, however, Eliott is snatching it up and unfolding it, holding it wide open and raising a single challenging eyebrow. When Lucas just stares at him his other eyebrow joins in and they do an exaggerated dance up and down on Eliott’s forehead. Lucas snorts and drips across the room towards his boyfriend so that Eliott can wrap Lucas in the towel until he resembles a burrito. It’s big and fluffy and soft against every sore point it touches, and Eliott’s hands are just as gentle. He pats Lucas dry in careful, barely noticeable movements. There isn’t anything sexual in this, it’s just so heartwarmingly tender. Everything within Lucas leans towards Eliott.  _ I love you,  _ Lucas wants to say every time their eyes meet.  _ I love you, I love you, I love you. _

Eliott helps him dress in a loose pair of sweatpants and the softest jumper Lucas owns, and then leads him by the hand, back to the bedroom. Lucas crawls back under the covers and Eliott takes up a position at his side. They hands find their natural resting position entwined together; touching is as necessary as breathing. They talk quietly, soft murmurs that match their mood; gentle and intense. 

There’s a break in conversation a short while later, as Mika and Manon bustle in with two separate trays. They linger, and Lucas gets the impression they don’t really want to leave him, and on any other day he would love the company, but right now he just wants Eliott. He doesn’t say anything obvious, but he also doesn’t invite them so sit, so they both filter out of their own accord eventually. Eliott looks a little awkward when Lucas glances at him over his tray of food.

“You should eat.” Lucas says, nodding at the second tray. “Before it gets cold.”

“Yeah.” Eliott sits and pulls the soup closer. “You know, if you want me to leave so you guys can chill, the same goes for you, about what you said earlier I mean. I won’t be offended.”

“Eliott.” Lucas raises his eyebrows in sync with his spoon, soup hovering an inch from his mouth with a tenuous wobble. “You’re my family too. Just like Mika and Manon. And I think you’re right; we need tonight for us. We’ve been through a lot this past week alone, we could do with a little quiet time to reflect. And there’s no one else in the world I want to cuddle up with right now, more than you.”

“Oh.”

They share a warm look, and then dig into their food. Lucas is sure it’s delicious but he doesn’t really taste it, it goes down so quickly. 

“Are you going to school this week?” Eliott asks when they’ve finished. 

“I have a note from the doctor to have the rest of the week off, and I texted Imane and the boys, I had to talk them down from coming over tonight, but they’re going to bring work from my classes so I don’t fall too far behind. It’s also probably an excuse to come check I’m alive for themselves.” 

“I could stay with you?”

“As much as I would love to spend the week in bed with you-- and really, I can’t imagine anything better-- if you’re feeling up to school you should probably go. I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.” He knows Eliott has already missed a lot of his classes since he started. Eliott pulls a face but nods after a long moment of contemplation. 

“I’ll keep my phone on vibrate,” he lifts his phone to wiggle in front of Lucas’ face, like he needs a demonstration. “Let me know if you need anything and I’ll ditch in a heartbeat.” Lucas swats at him with a fond sigh, watching as Eliott pushes himself off of the bed to take their trays back to the kitchen. He returns to the bedroom Mika and Manon-free, which Lucas counts as a win, and this time when he gets back on the bed he climbs under the covers to join Lucas. 

“I’m glad you’re alright.” Eliott says, voice soft, eyes softer. The bond thrums between them, a living, beating heart that they share.

“And i’m glad  _ you’re _ alright,” Lucas is about to shuffle closer to Eliott, but Eliott gets there first, wrapping arms around Lucas to gently tug him closer. He tucks Lucas into his chest and Lucas wraps his arms around Eliott’s waist. They lay like that for an endless moment, bodies and scents entwined together. When Lucas eventually pulls away it isn’t to get some distance between them, but so that he can angle his face upwards for a kiss. Eliott smiles down at him, eyes twinkling, and presses their mouths together in the softest kiss Lucas has even been witness to, never mind involved in. It doesn’t progress past this. Lucas is still tender and hurting, and Eliott just wants to hold him. When his arms aren’t around Lucas they feel like they’re not doing their job correctly.

An eternity has passed the next time they surface for oxygen, lips ever so slightly swollen and pink, and Lucas hums happily into the space between them. The air is heavy with love, and so is his heart. If only his mouth could get with the programme.  _ I love you. _

“Do you ever think about the future?” He asks instead.

“Hmm?” Eliott nuzzles their noses together for a moment before retreating so that they can look at each other without going cross eyed. Their heads share the same pillow, and their bodies are one tangled mess of limbs, but even this small distance feels like too much and Lucas has to smother a whine. “Of course.”

“What do you think about?”

“You,” Eliott gives a half shrug, gaze trained on Lucas. “How honest are we being here?” Lucas raises an eyebrow. “I mean, I could tell you the truth, or a half truth.”

“I want everything.”

“So do I.” They stare at each other, Lucas, waiting, Eliott, watching. “That’s it; that’s the truth. I want everything with you. I want us to move in together, not straight away, it’s too soon for that, but sooner rather than later. I want us to have silly pet names for each other, I want to cook dinner with you--” Eliott laughs at the horrified look on Lucas’ face, and the way that he mock-flinches. “ _ Alright _ , I want to watch  _ you _ cook dinner, and maybe chop some veg up or, I don’t know... Grind some salt and pepper. If you’ll trust me with something that simple, at least.” Lucas considers this for a moment, eyes narrowed, but eventually concedes. Surely Eliott can’t do too much damage with a pepper grinder. “I want to watch Netflix with you for an entire weekend every month. I want picnics in the park, and breakfast in bed. I want to tell you about my childhood, and learn about yours. I want to meet your mother. I want my parents to get to know you better, because I know how much they already love you. I want us to have a real, permanent mating bond. I want to marry you. I want to have kids with you. I want to spend every night of the rest of my life wrapped around you.”

Lucas blinks.

“I love you.” It’s so easy, the way the words walk from his lips like an innocent man freed from prison. The man turns his face up towards the sun for the first time in years, and Lucas turns his towards Eliott, his own personal, beaming star. Everything Eliott wants, Lucas wants too. He wants to share those moments, those memories, this lifetime, with Eliott.  He wants the weekends on the couch, he wants dinners with both of their families. He wants, he wants, he wants. “I love you.” He says it again, for good measure, and then whispers it into Eliott’s mouth when his boyfriend closes the distance between them and draws him into a wet, hot kiss. It is more tongue and teeth than lips, their previous softness all but forgotten. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is, it’s so messy, but Lucas is scorching from the start.

“I love you too, baby,” Eliott breathes, the exhale hot against Lucas’ mouth. “So fucking much.” 

The rest of the night escapes them. It runs away over their heads while they hide under the covers, protected from every bad thing the world could possibly throw their way. In this moment there is nothing they can’t face, nothing that could tear them apart. 

The bite mark on Lucas’ throat throbs pleasantly when Eliott fits a palm over it, and Lucas is lost to the feel of it, to the way Eliott holds him and kisses him, and uses every touch to seal the promise of their lives together. When Eliott touches the back of Lucas’ neck, where his scent gland is, it’s all Lucas can do to stop himself from begging for a permanent mark then and there, but he’s in no real rush. They have the rest of their lives to fill with moments like these, and as eager as he is for every single one of them, he wouldn’t wish even one away just to get to the next. Every moment is as precious as the one before, and the one after, and Lucas is determined to drown himself in each and every one as they come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only the epilogue to go now pals :( im sad. 
> 
> (this week has been a little bit shit in all honesty, im so glad this chapter is full of soft boys being soft, i hope its brightened your day a little <3 )
> 
> the final chapter should be up this weekend, i hope.


	23. Epilogue

They spend the next week glued to each other's sides whenever Eliott is not at school. Where Lucas goes, Eliott generally follows. They sit through a visit with Eliott's family, an invasion of Yann and the boys, and the near constant supervision of Mika and Manon. It is hectic and a little stressful, but they survive it together.

The next week when Lucas is back in school he ignores all the curious looks from his classmates. Some of them know what's happened since Lucas had asked Yann to clue their friends in just to avoid a barrage of questions, but most of them have no idea and this is the way that Lucas likes it. Eliott is a constant presence at his side here too, when they’re not separated by class. They spend their lunch times quite literally feeding each other little bites of their food when the food itself allows for it-- they try it once with spaghetti bolognaise and decide once is enough; it caused way too much of a mess and Lucas is _never_ going to get that tomato stain out of his white shirt.

Yann and the boys trade looks both fond and exasperated over their heads, but Lucas and Eliott are too far gone in a world of their own and the few times they notice the glances, they ignore them. Lucas never would have guessed that he’d become one half of the school’s most over the top PDA couple, but then he never could have predicted Eliott before Eliott showed up in his life either.

Many of the smaller aches from the car crash have healed, but he’s still bruised and tender in most places. The bite on his neck has settled fully now too. He doesn’t know how long it will stick around, but for as long as it’s there and his, _theirs_ , he loves it. Even when Eliott isn’t stuck to his side like glue Lucas can feel him in the back of his mind, a constant pulse of love whenever Lucas feels down, or frustrated or worried when a classmates’ eyes linger on them for too long. He’ll miss it like a lost limb, when it’s gone, but he has no intention of letting it stay gone for long.

When the weekend hits Lucas is exhausted but content. His body is still getting used to not being on the pills every day and he’s been more tired than usual, especially since the car accident, but it’s been worth it to be with Eliott with no more lies between them. When the gang suggest a party in the park to celebrate their successful battle against the school to keep the foyer and the mural (which, because of his week off, he hadn’t even known had been at risk), his first instinct is a hard no. He just wants to spend Friday evening in bed with Eliott, clothing optional, but Eliott’s eyes light up bright enough that Lucas almost needs to squint when he looks at his boyfriend. The excitement on Eliott’s face is more than enough to sway him.

“Why are you so up for this?” Lucas can’t help but grumble a bit as they leave the apartment and head towards the park, hands interlocked and swinging lightly between them. He throws one last longing look back over his shoulder at the closed door, as if, if he focuses hard enough on the wood, he’ll be able to see right through it and into his bedroom, where their bed is probably still warm from the quick nap they’d taken after school.

“What do you mean?” They pause in front of the elevator and Eliott leans over to press the button.

“I mean, we’re both still recovering--”

“--Why do I feel like you’re about to be dramatic--”

“--from our various battles with life and/or death--”

“--There we go--”

“-- So I figured you’d wanna spend the weekend in bed. You know. With me.”

Eliott laughs, twisting around and scooping up Lucas’ spare hand in his own, so that he’s walking backwards with only Lucas and their grip on each other to guide him into the elevator as the doors open.

“We’ll spend the rest of the weekend like that,” Eliott promises. “But we’ve become a bit of a hermit couple, it’ll be good for you to see your friends.”

“ _Our_ friends,” Lucas corrects absentmindedly, closing the gap between them and wrapping his arms around Eliott’s hips, tugging until they’re pressed together and Lucas is looking up into Eliott’s happy face. “And I guess so. It’ll be nice to show you off a bit too.” Eliott beams at him, hooking his arms over Lucas’ shoulders and rewarding him with a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose. In a previous life Lucas might have rolled his eyes to see a couple acting in this exact same way in public, but in this one he just blushes and leans into the contact with a content sigh.

The elevator dings and they filter out, still attached. Lucas shoves at Eliott, playful and amused, until Eliott rolls his eyes and turns back around so he can see where he’s going as they walk-- just in time too. He’d been less than half a minute away from tripping over one of the fake potted plants in the lobby of the apartment building, and Lucas hadn’t been paying nearly enough attention to their surroundings to warn him in time.

By the time they make it to the park the last jagged edges of the sun are sinking down below the horizon and the party is in full swing. Lucas can see Yann, Basile and Arthur in the crowd and he makes a note of their position so they can swing by and say hi.

They don't talk about it, at least not out loud, but both of them decline the beer that is offered the second that someone sees Lucas. No one comments, or really cares, when they both take a soda each instead, but the warmth that flows over the bond from Eliott’s side is like a blanket wrapping around Lucas’ shoulders. They make their way to the edge of the lake and look out over the water. There is only a very soft breeze and so the surface is still, a perfect mirror, and they gaze down into their own reflections.

“I think we look pretty good together.” Eliott muses, tilting his head to the side as he examines the Lucas and Eliott staring back at them.

“Hmm,” Lucas frowns. “Am I really that short?”

“Lucas, I’m trying to have a moment here,” Eliott laughs, giving up on his contemplative expression and smirking down at Lucas. “Don't you think we make a nice couple?”

“Mmhmm, sure-- but am I really that short?”

Eliott groans in fake annoyance and wraps himself around Lucas from behind, resting his chin on the crown of Lucas’ head. “I think you're the perfect height.”

“Well now that's just sappy,” Lucas accuses, trying to hide his grin.

“Someone has to be the romantic one in this relationship if all you can think about is how short you are!” Eliott rubs his chin against Lucas’ hair, mussing it up, and Lucas squarks, wriggling in Eliott’s grasp, but despite the show of annoyance he’s not really trying all that hard to get away.

“I do,” Lucas finally admits, when they’ve settled down again.

“Hmm?”

“I do think we make a good couple. I think you're perfect, just in general really, but especially perfect for me.” Eliott doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. His grip tightens around Lucas’ waist, and he presses a kiss to the top of Lucas’ head where his chin had been resting before. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Ditto.”

Lucas is silent for a single speechless moment.

“ _Ditto_ ? Really? _Really_ ? And you were complaining that _I_ wasn’t being romantic enough! At least I didn’t say _ditto_!”

“Listen,” Eliott snickers. “I’m just following your lead.”

“Ditto _my ass_ ,” Lucas rolls his eyes, a little scathing but more charmed than he wants to let on-- not that it matters, with the bond. Eliott is entirely aware of just how fond Lucas feels right now.

“Sure thing, soon as we get home!” Eliott quips, dodging backwards when Lucas swings around, eyes wide and jaw slack.

“Who are you and what have you done with my sweet Eliott?” Lucas demands, hands on hips, but Eliott is too busy cackling to answer him. Lucas’ own mouth is twitching at the corners, and it isn’t long until he gives in and joins his boyfriend. It isn’t even that funny but by the end of it they’re both practically on the floor, eyes damp and cheeks aching. They’re getting a lot of weird looks, but neither of them care.

“I love you,” Eliott says, when they can both breathe without giggling, his eyes are bright and alive, and the look on his face is so intense it sends shivers down Lucas’ spine.

“Yeah,” Lucas breathes, reaching out to take Eliott’s hands again, so caught in Eliott’s gravitational pull that there is nothing that could drag him away now. He’s tempted to say ditto, just to get revenge, but this moment doesn’t feel like a moment he wants to laugh away, and so he refrains. “I love you too.”

Eliott’s smile is luminescent, as bright as the moon that has begun to peek out from behind the clouds above them. It isn’t dark quite yet, but it’s close enough that it’s clear how brightly Eliott shines. The light he exudes may not be literal, but it is clear enough to change Lucas’ perception of the world. Eliott opens his arms and Lucas is moving before he even registers it, crawling into the space that Eliott makes for him on instinct alone.

“I love you,” Eliott says again, quietly, so that the words are theirs alone. Lucas rests his head over Eliott’s heart, listens to the thump of it beneath his ear, to the way it whispers Lucas’ name in the same way that Lucas’ heart whispers _‘Eliott.’_

“I love you too.”

He will never get tired of hearing or saying these words. He makes a silent vow, promises to say them at least once a day for the rest of their lives together, and then after, to wherever that leads them. As long as they’re together, Lucas doesn’t care where they end up or how they get there. Eliott is his home, and Lucas is Eliott’s. It’s as simple as that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah they really are that soft. can u believe?
> 
> anyway u might have noticed but i'm making this into a series bc even after 80k i havent had enough of this au haha. don't expect an update anytime soon though, i have other things i want to work on first, i already have my next skamfr fic plotted out and the first 3k written, and i also have two other skam france fics that were posted before this one so feel free to check them out if you haven't already! i'm really happy with and proud of both of them :D
> 
> i really dont know how to thank everyone who has commented consistently through this fic. i recognise your usernames when they pop up and i love you guys so much, and i know ive said that a lot but it needs saying again haha. every single comment, whether its a one time thing or an every chapter thing or a once ever three chapters thing, means the world to me.
> 
> and finally, tina, i hope this has all been worth the wait! i think the first time i wrote you something for your birthday it was that poem, idk if you remember, the foxhole court one?? this is certainly a lengthy progression from that haha, please don't be expecting 150k for your next birthday asdfghyj i love you!! <3
> 
> edited to add: if u wanna find me on social media my fandom tumblr is yellowshirtjimkirk ayy


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